Liberation
by Hank's Lady
Summary: Assistant Director Walter Skinner finds Alex Krycek handcuffed to his balcony - for the second time. Skinner is expected to 'dispose of the inconvenience' but finds himself unable to further hurt the injured man. Instead, he helps Krycek and develops surprising feelings for the man, despite knowing they can never be together.
1. Chapter 1 - Deja Vu

******A/N Now for something completely different. X Files were current a LONG time ago, but I'm probably more keen on them now than I was in the 90s and this idea just sprang into my head while I was watching some of the DVDs and refused to leave until I started writing it down. Something that intended to me a very short foray into the world of Walter Skinner ended up turning into a proper story so I decided to post it after all. If one or two of you get some enjoyment from it, then I'll be delighted :)**

******Without further do, this is Assistant Director Walter Skinner's story, starting approximately 9 months after the episode "Tunguska" in which Mulder and Alex Krycek took a trip to Russia, resulting in rebels forcibly amputating Krycek's arm. In the story, no one has seen Krycek since then until Skinner is reminded of an earlier even where Mulder brought Krycek to Skinner's apartment for 'safe keeping' and handcuffed him to the balcony. **

******LIBERATION**

******Part 1 - Deja Vu**

I removed my glasses and rubbed a hand over my face, squinting against the headache that had been threatening for the past hour. I had been closeted in my office for most of the day plowing through a seemingly endless pile of paperwork, repeatedly glancing at my wristwatch and looking forward to finishing up. One more hour and I would be on leave for the next two weeks – a much needed and overdue leave.

I took a sip from the glass of water to my right and replaced my glasses, then got stuck into the last file before I wrapped it up for the day. My PA, Kimberly, checked in to see if I needed anything else and then said goodnight before setting off home. I pushed the finished paperwork into my drawer at last, tidied up and got to my feet. I collected my suit jacket from the rack beside the door, found my keys and left my office with a sigh of relief. Ten days to do exactly what I wanted. I planned to head out to the old cabin my parents had left to me, relax and do some fishing and generally enjoy the peace and quiet away from the city.

It took thirty minutes to drive to the underground parking garage beneath the condos where I lived and by the time I locked the car, it was dark and sleet had been coming down for some time. Relieved not to have to venture outside in just my suit, I stepped into the elevator and travelled up to the eighth floor, pulling out my key as the car came to a halt. Another minute and I shrugged off my jacket again and loosened my tie, toeing off my shoes and leaving them beside the couch. I removed my gun holster, unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it free of my pants, eager to get in the shower and wash away the stress of the last week at the Bureau.

I switched on a lamp and immediately noticed something was wrong. The small table at the end of the couch was lying on its side, the glass that I kept there shattered on the wood floor. The pile of magazines I kept on the foot stool was strewn across the rug and something else lay in the middle of the floor – something I didn't want to contemplate for a second. I grabbed my gun from its holster where I had placed it on the arm of the couch, although I suspected the perpetrator was long gone.

I checked my answer machine, noting the blinking red light indicating a message. I pressed the button to listen to it and took another brief look at the _arm_ lying on my floor. What the hell?

"Mr Skinner..."

"Fuck," I muttered. It was the Cigarette Smoking Man's voice – unmistakable and unwelcome. I should have known going on vacation wouldn't mean I could leave him behind.

"...you will need to take care of a small problem on your return home. An inconvenience to be disposed of before you enjoy your vacation."

The call ended and I cursed again. A small problem? I paused and took stock, looking over the room carefully and spotting dirty smears on the floor leading away from the balcony door to the rug - the remains of wet footprints. The arm, on closer inspection, was a prosthetic, much to my relief, but this was only more baffling. I knew that the Smoking Man's instruction hadn't been for me to get rid of a plastic arm – much more likely the object was out there on the balcony.

I stepped into my bedroom and quickly retrieved the scanning device from beneath the loose board in the closet, then set about checking for bugs. I wouldn't put it past the Smoking Man's cohorts to have planted some during their invasion of my apartment and I knew without a doubt that whatever was here for me to find, he had arranged. Damn that man.

I found two bugs – unimaginatively hidden in the answer machine and the spare extension in the bedroom. He knew I'd listened to his message. I disposed of the devices quickly and finally went to the balcony door, gun gripped firmly in my hand and held against my leg. Sleet battered against the glass in the strong wind and I reluctantly opened the door and peered out, my glasses immediately spattered with water and fogged up. I removed them and squinted into the darkness, shivering as ice cold wind and wetness attacked my face and chest. There was only just enough light to see him and I couldn't tell if he was still alive.

I stepped outside, barefooted and shivering and crouched beside the huddled man on the balcony. His legs were curled under him, upper body slumped and head hanging, his right arm held upright by a handcuff attached to the balcony rail.

"Christ," I muttered, rising quickly. I was hit by a strong sense of deja vu and I was taken back to the previous winter, to the day when Mulder turned up at my door, asking for a safe house. The person he wanted keeping safe had been Agent Alex Krycek, a man whom both of us hated. I'd offered my own place as a safe house before Mulder had jerked Krycek into view and I'd immediately regretted my decision.

I had slammed my fist into the man's stomach, taking his breath away, then dragged him outside to my balcony and handcuffed him there, leaving him at the mercy of the elements. I could remember him looking up at me as if it were yesterday, half angry, half panicked.

___"You can't leave me out here! I'll freeze to death!"_

"Think warm thoughts," I had hissed at him and then proceeded to leave him there for the rest of the night. I hadn't slept a wink, worrying that I'd find a dead body out there in the morning and I'd been furious with myself for worrying. He didn't freeze of course - I had been called out to an emergency situation in the early hours and in my absence, he managed to throw one of the Smoking Man's minions, who had arrived to retrieve him, off the balcony to his death. Following this Mulder had sprung Krycek free and that was the last I'd seen of him. I hadn't wasted too much time questioning Mulder about it - I'd had other things going on to concern me.

This man handcuffed in the exact same place seemed familiar, but not. Frowning, I strode back inside and returned with a lock pick. In seconds the handcuff was released and the arm fell limply into the man's lap. I nudged him with my foot and he didn't respond so I crouched again, grimacing as my shirt grew wetter and stuck to my back. I pushed at his shoulder and slowly his head lifted. One eye met mine with a resigned expression and a hiss of breath escaped his half open mouth. The other eye was swollen shut and I suspected there would be other injuries, only I couldn't see in the dim light. What I did realise was that it was him – Krycek.

He was alive, but probably wouldn't be for much longer left in these conditions. I tucked the gun into the back of my pants and gripped the fronts of the leather jacket he wore, hoisting him to his feet as I stood. I was unable to hide my gasp of shock as the left sleeve of the jacket swung free, telling me that the prosthetic belonged to him. What the hell had happened to his arm?

I quickly realised that his legs were unable to support him, his knees buckling and head hanging again. He didn't even try to get away from me or fight and I gripped his arm by the wrist and slung it around my neck, wrapping my other arm around his waist as I hauled him into the apartment and shoved the door closed with my hip.

Relieved that my couch was upholstered in leather and therefore impervious to water, I dumped the sodden agent onto it and then switched on the overhead lights and the heating. He lifted his head again to look at me and I stared back, taking in more detail. His slim but muscular build was thinner than I remembered, his dark hair cropped short. His right eye was puffy and purple, his lower lip split and smears of blood around his nostrils indicated a nosebleed, most of the evidence washed away by the sleet. He was shivering violently and seemed to be incapable of speech. My eyes slid from his face to the leather jacket with its left sleeve hanging loose and empty and I glanced at the artificial limb on the floor. A fabric cuff was attached to it along with a couple of severed straps. I looked at him again, casting my mind back about eighteen months to the young agent who had been assigned to work with Special Agent Fox Mulder.

Alex Krycek had turned rogue and become one of the Smoking Man's pawns. The last I had heard of him, he and Mulder had gone to Tunguska where they were captured and imprisoned. They escaped, but Mulder returned to report that Krycek had apparently been in league with the prison camp guards and had escaped from the back of a truck Mulder had used to get them away from the camp. What had happened to him since then?

"Agent Krycek?" I queried, although there was no question it was him. His face was unmistakable.

"Uh..." He gave a slight nod and a grimace, teeth chattering audibly. He wasn't going to be able to answer questions just yet and it occurred to me that if I hadn't returned when I did, he would probably have died from hypothermia. In fact that was still quite likely. I hesitated, considering my position. The Smoking Man wanted me to 'dispose of the inconvenience', but he no doubt imagined I would come home to find a corpse on my balcony.

I strode into the bathroom, turned on the bath to run at medium heat and returned to the living room, advancing quickly on the young agent on the couch. He immediately shrank from me, raising a trembling hand as if to ward me off. He struggled to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was a series of whimpers and grunts interspersed with the clattering of his teeth. I ignored him, batting his hand away and pulling him forward so that I could slide the soaked jacket off his shoulders. He flinched and groaned as if in pain from other unseen injuries. Underneath the jacket, the sweater he wore was wringing wet and I grasped the hem, yanking it upwards and off over his head. I struggled to suppress a grimace at the sight of the stump of his left arm, cut off roughly between the elbow and shoulder, hideously scarred as if it had been removed with a saw. He immediately tried to turn away, lifting his hand to grip the stump and hanging his head again. There were several dark bruises around his ribs.

"P-p-please..." he stammered and then moaned in obvious pain.

"You'll die if you don't get warm," I stated and he looked up again quickly, surprise etched on his features.

"I th-th-think that's the...the...the i-i-dea."

I ran my eyes over his upper body again, wondering if anything was broken. I should probably check before I dragged him around any more in case a broken rib punctured a lung.

"I'm gonna check for...uh...broken bones," I advised, stretching both hands out toward him. He stiffened, but stayed still as I touched the bruised areas and discovered nothing was broken. I backed up quickly and got to my feet.

"Get up." I gripped his wrist to support him, but his legs still weren't able to take his weight as he struggled to stand. He stumbled and fell to his knees at my feet, crying out and clutching his stomach, his entire body shaking. Sighing, I pulled him up again, a little more carefully than before, and half dragged, half carried him into the bathroom, lowering him onto the toilet lid. I removed his sodden boots and socks and then with some reluctance reached out to unfasten his jeans. He jerked sideways and fell to the floor with a yell of pain, a horrified look on his face, his good eye wide with what seemed to be panic.

"Don't!"

"Krycek..."

"Just...m-m-make it quick. Please. A bullet..."

"You think I'm going to kill you?" I dropped to my haunches in front of him and he shuffled backward as far as the wall would allow.

"You're supposed to...get...r-r-rid of me. He...wanted you to f-finish me off if..."

"Krycek, unlike yourself I've never killed anyone in cold blood and I don't plan to start now," I said firmly.

He looked at me with disbelief.

"You need to get in that bath and warm up," I added, dipping my fingers into the water to check the temperature. It was warm, but not hot – too much heat would cause intense pain to frozen limbs. I reached out to him again and he lashed out weakly, his fist catching me in the shoulder although I barely felt it.

"D-d-don't touch me," he whimpered. This wasn't the Krycek everyone loved to hate and I wondered what could possibly have happened to him to make him cower from me the way he was doing. Unless it was just the knowledge that he was nearing the end of his life and he still expected me to finish it.

"You need help," I said, but I quickly realised he hadn't heard me. The unswollen eye was closed and when I pushed his shoulder lightly, he slumped sideways, unconscious.

"Fuck," I muttered. This was the last thing I needed when I wanted to pack for my vacation and relax for the evening, but I was aware that the Smoking Man was obviously awaiting some development with one of his men positioned outside watching the apartment. I pulled Krycek toward me, propped him against the side of the tub and unfastened his jeans, struggling to wriggle the cold wet fabric out from under his butt and down his legs. He wasn't wearing underwear and I tried not to look, until something caught my attention and then I did look. There was blood on the insides of his thighs and when I reluctantly turned him over I noticed more smeared along the crack of his ass.

"Shit," I whispered. "Shit, shit, who the fuck did this?" Shuddering, I slid my arms under him and scooped him up with difficulty, carefully lowering him into the bath and keeping my hand under the back of his neck to stop him slipping down and drowning.

After a minute or so his eye opened and met mine. He jerked upright and let out another cry of pain as he tried to back away from me and discovered there was nowhere to go. He pulled his knees up to his chest, grimacing, and wrapped his arm around them. I moved away and sat myself on the toilet lid.

"Why does he want you dead?" I asked him. Neither of us needed to name or describe who we were talking about.

"I outlived my...usefulness. I guess I'm..." He shrugged slightly. "Expendable."

"Who did this to you?"

"Two of his...operatives."

"You need to see a doctor," I said, unable to hide a grimace.

"No!"

"Krycek, you've been..." I struggled for the right word. "Abused."

"God." The unbruised parts of his face reddened and he lowered his head, resting his forehead on his knees in an effort to hide from me, presumably either realising that I wasn't going to do anything further to him or that it wasn't worth trying to fight.

"Why would they...?"

"Fuck, I don't know," he mumbled. "One of them stayed behind after they finished beating me. I guess he thought he might as well get something out of it." He shuddered. "It doesn't matter, does it?"

"You don't care?"

"There isn't anything I can do to change it. I just...I can't...take any more."

"Did this all happen here?" I asked in horror.

"No. I was brought here after."

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, uncomfortable with both the conversation and the fact that he seemed to have almost given up. He lifted his head slightly again and glanced sideways at me. He was still shaking with cold, but not so much that he couldn't talk without stammering. He looked impossibly young, the one green eye mirroring his pain, his body shaking and huddled in on itself. I had no idea what to do, but I needed to change the subject.

"How old are you, Krycek?" I asked. I'd seen his file when he was first assigned to work with Mulder, but I couldn't remember the details and I wasn't even sure they were the truth.

"Twenty-six."

"What happened to your arm?"

"You haven't heard then."

"If I knew, I wouldn't ask."

He folded his hand over the stump again, clearly self-conscious and I averted my eyes, staring at the faucet on the hand basin instead.

"They cut it off in Russia."

"Who did?"

"A group of one-armed rebels. They all had their left arms amputated to avoid being used as test subjects. Something to do with the black oil. They sawed my arm off with a red hot blade straight out of a fire. I almost died from the blood loss and then an infection."

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. I found myself feeling sorry for him. I knew very little about him, but I did know that he had been a promising young agent, very quickly recruited by the Smoking Man to carry out his every wish. Most of those wishes included spying and killing and he had rapidly turned into a cold and unfeeling man whom everyone else at the Bureau hated or feared – or both. It seemed like a terrible waste of a young life, to come to this, having outlived his usefulness and expected to be gotten rid of like a piece of trash – beaten and raped and left to die in freezing conditions.

"What are you going to do with me?" He looked up again through long, damp lashes, his expression showing faint hope.

"I have to be seen to be...getting rid of you. Quickly."

"I know. They'll be watching." He cleared his throat and took his hand away from his shoulder, pulling himself up and turning awkwardly to sit cross-legged in the bath, facing me. "Will you help me, Assistant Director Skinner?"

"Why should I help you?" I'd already decided I was going to – I couldn't imagine the pain he must be in right now and I hated to see it, no matter what he might have done in the past.

"Well, you're clearly not going to kill me. Look...Assistant Director..."

"Walter," I interrupted and his eyebrows rose. "I'm on vacation," I added. "This is my home. My name's Walter."

"Okay. Walter. I know I can't go back. I fucked up. My career's over. It wasn't what I thought it would be when I signed up. I made a deal with Cancerman because he made it impossible for me to refuse, but I didn't know what I was letting myself in for. Even if I had, there wasn't a damn thing I could have done about it." He shook his head, his expression bitter. "All I can do is start again, somewhere else. As someone else. Please, Walter. If you're not going to do what he wants, help me get away."

I stared back at him, trying to make a decision. I already knew I wasn't going to kill him, which meant my only option was to make it look like he was dead and get him out of my apartment and as far away from me as possible, but he was in no condition to be dumped somewhere.

"Have you some place you can go?" I asked.

He shook his head and bit into the undamaged part of his lower lip, looking strangely vulnerable. He seemed so different from the man I vaguely knew and had heard a lot about from Mulder. Then again, anyone hurt this badly was sure to appear different. I sighed heavily and ran a hand over my bald head, then straightened up.

"Stay there and get warmed up and clean," I told him. "I'll find you some clothes. I should have something that'll roughly fit you." I left him alone in the bathroom and went into my bedroom, pulling open the closet door. He was almost my height, around six-one, but slimmer, not least because he looked as if he hadn't had a decent meal in weeks. I would estimate about a hundred and sixty pounds as he was. I pulled out sweatpants with a drawstring waist, a t-shirt, hoodie and another leather jacket. Going to a drawer I removed a pair of socks and some boxer briefs, cringing slightly at the thought of him wearing my underwear. Still, I wouldn't be getting them back. I returned to the bathroom to find him awkwardly washing his upper body with a soapy sponge, grimacing as he turned this way and that.

"Where's...my arm?" he said, not looking at me.

"In my living room. Do you need it?"

"It's no use to me as it is – the...um...it was ripped off of me."

"Maybe we can fix it later. I'd better get you something to eat."

"Uh...no." He shuddered. "Just some water, please."

"You must be starving."

"I can't...eat right now. I feel nauseous."

I strode out of the room again and went to the kitchen to boil the kettle. He could at least have a hot drink. I made chocolate and poured a glass of water, then placed both on the dining table and returned to the bathroom. Krycek was still in the bath although he had finished washing and I realised he was probably going to need some help getting out and dressing. I felt uncomfortable about helping and hesitated for a moment, trying to talk myself into it. It wasn't as if a naked male embarrassed me – I'd had a number of male lovers both before I met Sharon and after we divorced, but I would certainly rather not be putting my hands on Krycek if I could avoid it. Maybe because of who he was – or what he had been.

"Need some help?" I grunted.

"Uh...no...I..." He shrugged and braced his hand on the edge of the bath, rolling awkwardly onto his knees with several gasps and groans of discomfort. He began to push himself up, his arm trembling with the effort, and then sank bank on his heels. "Fuck...just...uh...get me out of here."

I ground my teeth and stepped closer to the tub, leaning down towards him. "Put your...uh...arm around my neck."

He did so and I wrapped mine around him, gingerly placing the other beneath his stump to hoist him up. I was ridiculously leery of the remains of the severed limb and couldn't understand my reaction to it. Slowly Krycek lifted one leg up and swung it over the side of the tub, then the other. I lowered him back onto the toilet lid with relief and backed up, passing him a towel.

"Can you...uh...you know?"

"Walter, I've been living like this for months," he said with a slight sneer, rubbing the towel over his face and chest, groaning in discomfort as he did so.

"I guess it's easier with the...uh...prosthetic on."

"That piece of shit is about as basic as they come. It's for appearances only. I'm not entitled to one of those new inventions that you can actually do something with. They're kept for - people who are of some use, I guess." He twisted this way and that, awkwardly drying his sides and back. He was still shivering and his teeth began to clatter again now he was out of the warmth of the bath.

"Here...put this on." I grabbed up the t-shirt and unfolded it and to my surprise he merely stuck his arm up in the air and waited for me to put it on him. I'd never dressed anyone else before – not even Sharon. I fumbled with the garment until I got it over his head and the one arm, then messed around with the other sleeve to get it over the stump.

"It won't fucking bite," Krycek said through his teeth.

"I'm sorry." I felt myself flush and pulled the hem of the shirt down to his waist, then grabbed the hoodie as well. This was easier – it had a zipper down the front and I helped him get his arm into it, then gripped his stump carefully and determinedly and poked it into the other sleeve. I was an idiot, I decided. It was part of him – his flesh and bone – just with part of it missing. What the hell was I cringing about? Perhaps it was more to do with the way it had been removed that made me shudder.

"Thanks." He resumed drying his legs and feet and I averted my eyes while he attended to his crotch. I'd already noticed his cock a couple of times, limp and shrivelled from the cold, although it looked as if it would be a decent size when hard. I couldn't quite believe I'd even thought that and I moved away to empty the tub and rinse it while Krycek continued struggling alone. The next time I looked at him, I was relieved to see he was wearing my sweats and in the process of pulling on one sock. The boxers remained on the shelf where I'd put them.

"You don't wear underwear?" I queried, wondering why it mattered.

"Not if I can help it." He gave me a sudden grin and raised his eyebrows. I turned away quickly to leave the room and then realised he would probably need my help to walk so I stayed, only then beginning to realise that I was shivering with cold too. I looked down at my bare chest and the soaked shirt clinging to the rest of me and quickly shrugged out of it, tossing it onto the floor. I returned to my bedroom briefly, removed my work pants and dragged on jeans and a sweater, then returned to help my unwelcome guest into the kitchen-diner.


	2. Chapter 2 - Sickness

**Part 2 - Sickness**

I sat in silence as Krycek gulped the glass of water and then wrapped his hand around the mug of chocolate, sipping slowly and flinching when the hot drink stung his split lip. He didn't speak and nor did I. I was trying to think of a way to make it look as if I were disposing of a body and deciding on a place to leave him.

I got up abruptly and went to my room to begin packing the things I intended to take to the cabin. The best thing for me to do would be to drop him off somewhere and then continue to my destination, taking care to get rid of the tail on the way. The last thing I wanted was the Smoking Man's employees following me to my cabin and spying on me. I shoved clothes and other items into two bags and then gathered up Krycek's wet clothes from the bathroom, tying them up in a plastic bag. I left his boots beside it and went back to my room to find alternative footwear. His boots were the same size as mine so I dug out a fairly new pair that I'd never really liked and took them to him.

"We need to get out of here," I said needlessly.

"I know."

"You're gonna have to...uh...play dead."

"What are you going to do? Just drag me out of here?"

"And risk one of my neighbours seeing me?" I raised an eyebrow and went to retrieve his prosthetic, tucking it into one of my bags. I still hadn't decided what I was going to do with him. "Do you have money?" I asked.

"Not on me. Cancerman managed to find my three accounts and have them frozen. I've got a safety deposit box, but I'm not sure when I can get to it."

"Where is it?"

"A bank here in the city. It'll be closed."

"I know that." I sighed heavily. "I suppose I can..let you have a little cash."

"You don't have to do that, Assis - Walter. I'll manage. I always did before."

"Right, well we'll talk about it later," I grunted. "I'm going to take this stuff down to the car. Stay here."

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

"Yes." I didn't explain further, but picked up my two bags and the one containing Krycek's clothes and left the apartment. I took the elevator down to the garage, opened the trunk of my car and placed the bags inside, my eyes landing on the old set of golf clubs that I'd been meaning to get rid of for months and never gotten around to. They were stashed in a large golf bag and it gave me an idea. I locked the trunk and returned to the apartment, hoping that somehow Krycek would have vanished and that I wouldn't have to deal with any of this. I was out of luck, of course - he was exactly where I left him, the empty mug in front of him. I grabbed it along with the glass and washed them quickly, then put on boots and a jacket. Krycek was wearing the new pair of boots, I noticed, the laces tucked into the sides.

"What now?" he asked.

"Go lie on the rug." I pointed to the rug in the middle of the living room floor.

_"What?"_

"Just do it. As I said, I can't risk the neighbours seeing me dragging a body out of here."

"And you think a body wrapped in a carpet will be any better?"

"Have you an alternative suggestion?" I waited a moment until he shook his head and stood up on still shaky legs, then put on the spare jacket I'd picked out for him. I gripped his arm as he moved unsteadily into my living room and lowered himself onto the rug. It measured eight feet by five and when I carefully rolled it up, it extended almost a foot past both his head and feet.

"Fuck, not so tight," he gasped in a muffled voice, attempting to struggle.

"Be quiet. It'll be five minutes." I made sure I had wallet, cell phone and keys, retrieved my gun and stuck it in the back of my jeans. Then I kneeled on the floor, hoisting up the rolled rug and positioning it over my right shoulder. Krycek groaned and swore from within and I got to my feet slowly, thanking God that I worked out regularly. In another minute I had locked my door and got back in the elevator and I made it to my car without seeing anyone. I glanced around furtively, pretending to be worried that someone might catch me while I scanned the area for the man or men I knew would be there watching me. A shadow in the far corner caught my eye and I noted that from his position, he wouldn't be able to see what I was actually doing when I opened my trunk. I unlocked it quickly and the lid rose, hiding me from view.

I lowered Krycek carefully into the space in front of the bags and pulled one edge of the rug free, managing to unwrap him without too much difficulty. Leaning over him, I released the catch on the rear seat so that it could be pushed down without too much effort, making sure he saw what I was doing. Then I straightened up quickly and slammed the trunk closed, took another nervous look around, rubbed a hand over my face and got into the car. Hopefully my actions were convincing enough.

I glanced repeatedly in the rear view mirror, easily able to spot the tail by the time I'd been driving for a few minutes. Either the Smoking Man's latest recruits weren't too good at their job, or they figured I was so anxious about the 'dead body' in my car, that I hadn't noticed them. I headed west and then north, deciding on a secluded spot along the bank of the Potomac where I could 'dispose of the inconvenience' although I still wasn't sure what to do about Krycek.

After another fifteen minutes or so, I heard a thud and glanced back as the rear seat lowered and Krycek's head and arm appeared. I switched my attention back to the road, listening to the series of bumps and shuffling sounds, interspersed with a collection of inventive curses, some in what sounded like Russian. When I looked in the mirror again, the seat was in its usual position and Krycek was lying on it, his legs curled up and knees pressed against the back of my seat.

"You okay?" I asked.

"I'm still fucking freezing," he grunted.

I turned the car's heater up a few notches. "You speak Russian?" I queried.

"My parents were Cold War immigrants," he said by way of an explanation.

"Is Krycek really your name?" I didn't expect him to tell me the truth, but at least it was something to talk about.

"It's one of my middle names. My mother's name was Yelena Krycek."

"And your father?"

"Vladimir Tolstokozhev. I was born Alexsei Vladimir Krycek Tolstokozhev."

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, imagining trying to learn to pronounce such a mouthful, let alone spell it. Krycek chuckled quietly. "What happened to your parents?" I asked. He had spoken of his mother in the past tense.

"They're dead," he said shortly. "Killed two years ago."

"I'm sorry."

He didn't offer an explanation and I didn't ask, figuring he would elaborate if he wanted me to know. It wasn't as if we meant to get to know each other. I was still trying to think of a way to get rid of him.

"Where are you going? After you dump my body," he asked then.

"I have a cabin around three hundred miles north of here, not too far from Williamsport. I'm taking a vacation."

"On your own?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds...peaceful."

"You mean boring."

"I didn't say that. Believe me, isolated, peaceful boredom would be heaven to me right now."

"You're not going with me!" I blurted.

"I don't expect to. I just meant...it sounds nice, that's all."

I fell silent and concentrated on the road for a while. What _was _I going to do with him exactly? His money was in DC and my only option really was to leave him in some town on the way to Williamsport, late at night in foul weather. I supposed I could at least get him a motel room for the night.

I glanced in the rear view again to check that the tail was still with me. It was around two hundred yards behind, the only other vehicle in sight. I drove on for another forty-five minutes before I took the turning which eventually led back to the river. Two more miles and I pulled onto the parking area I'd been to several times before. Sharon and I had come here to take walks and picnic. I noted I was still being followed, although the car stopped before reaching the lot. I climbed out quickly, pulling the collar of my leather jacket up against the cold. At least the sleet had now stopped, but there was a biting wind. I opened the trunk and as quickly as I could, wrapped the rug around the bag of golf clubs. In the darkness and at a distance, I was sure it could pass for a body.

In another minute I had the thing resting over my shoulder, allowing the empty part of the roll of the rug to hang down my back. I hurried down the path toward the river, knowing I would be followed on foot and wanting to get as far ahead as possible so that they wouldn't get a clear view. The river was a raging torrent which would easily sweep away a body in seconds. I stepped out onto one of the small platforms used by fishermen and launched the awkward bundle as far as I could manage. The splash was almost drowned out by the roar of the river and in an instant it had disappeared from view. I turned and ran back up the path, pretending not to notice the figure pressed against a tree trunk as I passed it. Clearly these men hadn't been well trained.

I dived into the car and slammed the door, rubbing my cold hands together, then started the engine. I didn't speak as I drove rapidly back up the narrow road, spotting the tail parked on the grass off to one side. A few more minutes and we were back on the highway, heading north. I stomped harder on the gas, but it soon became clear I was no longer being followed and I eased up. I looked in the rear view again at Krycek, still huddled on the seat with his hand tucked inside his clothes - my clothes - his face pale and stiff.

"You alright?" I asked. "Krycek?"

"Yeah."

"They're not following now. Sit up here if you want."

"I'll stay here. I don't feel so good." He coughed and tucked his face into the neck of his jacket. I twisted around in the seat and looked at him more closely. I could see now that he was shaking all over and it seemed that the episode on my balcony had done more harm than it first appeared. I turned back to the road, still undecided on what to do with him. I drove on for another hour before stopping for gas and checking the map in the glovebox for anywhere nearby that I could leave him. I took the opportunity to lean back between the seats to take another look at him. His face appeared shiny and I could see that he was sweating, although his teeth were clattering together, his uninjured eye squeezed shut.

"Fuck," I muttered as I reluctantly extended one hand and touched his forehead. He was burning up. "Krycek?"

"Uh..." He opened his eye slowly. "Where are we?"

"Nowhere. Just a gas station. You're sick."

"I'm...okay. Just need to sleep. Can you...take me to a motel?"

"Alright. There's a town about thirty miles further on," I agreed doubtfully. I turned back to the wheel and started the car again. I drove in silence until I reached the outskirts of the town, where I immediately noticed a motel with its neon sign announcing 'vacancies'. I pulled up in front and turned around, reaching out to shake Krycek's shoulder. He grunted and moaned softly.

"Krycek!" I shook him harder and he forced his eye open. "We're here. At a motel like you asked."

"Okay." He licked dry lips and raised his head slowly.

"You don't look good," I stated.

"Cold," he mumbled.

I sighed heavily. He was sick and as much as I wanted rid of him, I couldn't quite bring myself to dump him in a motel and leave. I knew exactly what would happen. I would spend the two weeks of my vacation fretting about it, wondering if he was still lying there in the motel, the same way I had the previous winter when he'd spent the night on my balcony. As much as it infuriated me, I couldn't do it. I was getting soft in my old age. Instead, I took my jacket off and tucked it around his upper body.

"Get some sleep," I said and started the engine again. In another minute we were back on the highway heading north toward Williamsport.

I didn't stop again until I reached the cabin. I was tired and hungry and struggling to stay awake by the time I parked up and the clock on the dash told me it was past one o'clock. The air was crisp and icy, a sliver of moon and several bright stars shining overhead. I stepped out of the car, immediately feeling the chill and grabbing my jacket which was still wrapped around Krycek. He appeared to be sleeping and when I touched his face again I found it to be hotter than before and damp with sweat. He stirred slightly and coughed, then fell silent.

I went to unlock the door of the cabin, turned on a couple of lights and the heating and returned to the car. I opened the rear door and grasped Krycek by the arm, pulling him upright. His head hung, chin touching his chest and when I released his arm, he slumped back onto the seat, his body shaking violently. I cursed under my breath and strode around to the other side of the car, opened the door and unfolded his legs, pulling them out and placing his feet on the ground. He groaned and coughed, but didn't try to help himself or struggle against me.

"Krycek! Look at me!" I shook him and pulled him up again. His eye opened slowly and fixed on my face.

"Walter? Where are we?"

"My cabin. You're sick."

"I'm just...cold." He broke off and coughed harder, clutching his chest.

"Come on, get up." I gripped the front of his jacket and also his arm, trying to pull him to his feet, but immediately his legs buckled and I was forced to scoop him up into my arms instead, the way I had when I put him in my bath. He was barely conscious and once again I cursed and grumbled as I walked into the house and nudged open the guest bedroom door with my knee. He was going to have to stay here until he was well and I didn't relish trying to take care of a sick man one bit, but what other choice was there? I left him there and returned to the car for the bags, taking a moment to put his jeans, socks and sweater in the washing machine and turn it on. Then I quickly unpacked the other items before turning my attention back to him.

I took my boots off him and also the jacket, but left the other clothes on. The beds weren't properly made up so I fetched blankets from the cupboard and covered him up, then went to make up my own bed in the main room. I had left several changes of clothes in the closet the last time I visited the cabin and I put away the other items I'd brought with me and then stripped and changed into thick pajamas, leaving my socks on. I was exhausted after the long day at work followed by the hours of driving and I turned the lights off and slid into bed. My eyelids began to droop the minute my head hit the pillow and moments later I slept.

I was woken by a sound a little while later. It was still dark, but the cabin was warm and comfortable. I lay awake listening to the groans and whimpers coming from the next room. The bed creaked as my unwelcome guest moved around and then suddenly a hoarse yell in Russian startled me. Following this, a couple of coughs which quickly became a paroxysm, interspersed with gasps for breath.

"Fuck!" I leapt out of bed and ran into the other room, finding Krycek lying on one side, writhing and spluttering, his face red and his wet hair plastered to his head. I touched his shoulder and felt that the hoodie was damp, indicating the t-shirt underneath would be soaking wet. I left him again and fetched a glass of water, then sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him upright as the coughing subsided and he breathed noisily through his mouth. He looked terrible and I knew instantly that it was pneumonia. My father had died from it many years ago when I was in my teens.

I held the glass while Krycek took a few sips and then realised I was going to have to get the wet clothes off him. I could hear my mother's voice in my head, telling me that Dad must be kept warm and dry. The prospect of divesting Krycek of his clothes again didn't fill me with delight, but I didn't have much choice. I held him up with one arm and unzipped the hoodie, removed it and then dragged off the wet t-shirt. He was sweating copiously and at the same time shaking so hard that it made the already difficult task of taking his clothes off even harder. I lowered him onto the pillows and fetched a towel and another pair of pajamas, dried him off as well as I could and then somehow got the pajama shirt onto him. He muttered and groaned, but otherwise just lay weakly on the bed or leaned against me when I pulled him up to get the garment around his back. This time it didn't cross my mind to cringe when my hand brushed over his stump - I was too concerned about the fact that he was so sick and I was the one having to deal with it.

I pushed the blankets back further and moved to unfasten the knotted drawstring of my sweatpants, clenching my teeth as I remembered the reaction this had created back at my apartment. Now he squirmed half-heartedly and gasped 'Don't' a couple of times before lapsing into mumbled Russian. I stopped what I was doing and touched his arm.

"Krycek..."

_"Ne trogayte menya!"_

"Alex...it's Walter. Look at me." He repeated the Russian phrase and I shook him carefully. "Alex! Listen to me. It's Walter. You're sick, I'm just trying to help you."

He uttered something else that I couldn't make out and began coughing again, struggling to suck in air at the same time. For anyone else, I would have called an ambulance right away, but I couldn't exactly take him to the hospital. There would be too many questions and the Smoking Man would be quick to learn that I hadn't cleared up his mess after all. I continued removing Krycek's sweats, despite his protests, scrubbing his legs vigorously with the towel before attempting to get the pajama pants on him. By the time I had completed the task I was sweating myself and I wrapped the blankets around him again, then moved away. I longed to go back to my own comfortable bed and succumb to sleep, but at the same time I was becoming anxious about Krycek. He didn't sound good. He was calm again, but his breathing was raspy and rough and he had rapidly gone down hill in just a few hours. At seven o'clock the previous evening I'd been talking to him and getting ready to leave my apartment. Just nine hours later he needed a doctor and I had to wonder exactly how long he'd been out on my balcony in the icy wind and sleet.

The room was warm enough for me not to need blankets and after a brief hesitation, I stretched out on the vacant half of the bed, on top of the covers and just a couple of feet away from Krycek. At least if he needed help again I was close by.

I was woken at six by movement beside me and I rubbed my eyes and yawned. Krycek was tossing and turning, whimpering and muttering in his sleep and again his face and hair were wet. I could feel the heat coming off him even through the blankets and I knew without checking that the pajamas I'd put on him just a couple hours before would be soaked. I touched his shoulder and shook him lightly.

"Alex..."

_"Ne trogayte menya." _He repeated the same words from earlier, more in a whisper this time, and I wished I knew what it meant. Perhaps 'leave me alone' or something of that nature. He had seemed to be having a nightmare when he'd said it before - maybe reliving what had happened to him.

"It's okay," I said awkwardly. "You're okay. Nobody's going to hurt you."

After a moment he lay still, his chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes closed. I gripped his wrist, feeling for a pulse and finding it to be much too fast. He needed medication at the very least and I was at a loss as to how to get it for him. I got up and went to run a bath, deciding to clean him up and find something else dry to put on him while I considered my options.

The Smoking Man had a lot to fucking answer for, I thought, when two hours later Krycek was clean and dry, wearing another pair of my pajamas and sleeping in my bed. I was worn out and irritable, even the sound of the washing machine and the dryer getting on my frayed nerves, but I couldn't bring myself to blame Krycek for any of it. He was in a bad way - so out of it that he'd wet the other bed, which I'd had to strip and scrub the mattress. I wasn't cut out for this and knew I'd have struggled even to take care of Sharon in this way when we'd been married. I did the only thing I could think of and called the one person who might be able to offer help if I could convince her to keep her mouth shut.

"Scully," she answered abruptly after three rings.

"Agent Scully, this is...Walter Skinner."

"Assistant Director! This is a surprise. Aren't you on vacation?" she asked.

"Uh...yes. Supposed to be. I need your advice."

"About what, Sir?"

"I have a...I'm...um...taking care of a sick...friend."

"Okay..."

"I think it's pneumonia."

"Sir, if that's the case then he or she should be in a hospital."

"Well, that's not...possible."

"Why not?"

I cursed silently as I tried to think of a reason. "You're just going to have to trust me on that, Scully," I said.

"Sir, are you in some sort of trouble?" she queried.

"No, I'm fine. I want your advice on how to care for...my friend."

"Can you not call for a doctor?"

"That's what I'm doing!" I snapped.

"I meant, you should have a doctor visit. What are your friend's symptoms?"

"Feverish, constantly sweating, rapid pulse, coughing and some difficulty in breathing...seems a little delirious."

"It sounds pretty serious. I really think the hospital is the best option. He or she will need antibiotics and a saline drip, possibly oxygen. Who is this...friend?"

"I can't say. And you can't say that you've spoken to me," I added, rubbing the back of my neck. She was going to think I was in some kind of trouble, despite what I'd said. "You cannot say anything about this to Agent Mulder."

"But..."

"I mean it, Scully!"

"Sir, have you...compromised yourself in some way?" she asked carefully.

"Maybe," I said before I could stop myself. "Look, Agent Scully, it's a...a personal matter. I just want your advice on how to deal with this. Can I get the medication I need from somewhere and treat him myself?"

"Him?" I could just imagine the look on her face - arched eyebrows, slight wrinkle between her brows and pursed lips. "Am I compromising _my_self, Sir?"

"No, you're not. You're giving advice to your AD," I said firmly and then added, "Confidentially."

Scully gave a long-suffering sigh. "Have you ever given an injection before?"

"No."

"Where are you? Could I...come there and...?"

"No!" I barked.

Another sigh from Scully. "Well, then, the only thing I can think of to do is courier the equipment to you along with a disc showing a demonstration of how to set up an IV. I'm not happy about this though, Sir, not at all. You could do more harm than good."

"At this point, I don't think it could get much worse," I said, hearing a moan coming from the other room. "You promise this will stay between us?"

"Yes. So where are you?"

"I'm at my cabin near Williamsport." I recited the exact address for her and she repeated it back to me.

"Let me know how he gets on. I still think you're going to need a doctor."

"Well, if that turns out to be the case, I'll give you another call," I answered before I hung up.


	3. Chapter 3 - Time

**Part 3 - Time**

I sat in the chair in my room, trying to read a book and repeatedly glancing over at the bed where Krycek lay. I was completely exhausted. The day had passed slowly with me having to change him out of sweaty clothes into dry ones several times. The washer and dryer had been going constantly and in between, I had attempted to get him to drink some water, but mostly failed. He was delirious, rambling inanely in Russian and slipping in and out of consciousness. I didn't have it in me to feel annoyed any more - I was just worried that he wouldn't make it and I would end up having to dispose of his body the way the Smoking Man had intended. It was like seeing my father going through it all over again.

There wasn't really much I could do except try to keep him dry and warm. The heating was up high and I was wearing only board shorts and a t-shirt, while Krycek continued to sweat and shiver. There was a small medical kit in the cabin, but it didn't contain much that was of use except for a thermometer. I'd managed to get it under his tongue earlier in the day and discovered his temperature was 104. His skin felt like it was on fire and his breathing grew progressively worse, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his lungs rattling as he struggled to suck in air. I almost called Scully again, but eventually in the late afternoon the courier arrived with the package she had sent me and then at least I'd felt as if I was doing something. The first thing I did was put the oxygen mask over Krycek's mouth and nose and turn on the supply as instructed, although he'd immediately thrashed around and pulled it off. Eventually I'd been forced to restrain him, tying a dressing gown cord loosely around his wrist and securing the end to one of the bed legs so that he couldn't reach his face. He'd appeared to panic for a while, but finally passed out and the next time he came round, he lay still.

There was an old computer in the corner of the living room and I fired it up and looked at the disc Scully sent. Then I made several attempts at inserting a canula into my own arm, resulting in a number of small bleeding wounds which I had to cover with a dressing when I finished. The thought of trying this out on Krycek horrified me, but there was nothing else I could do. I rested my knee on his wrist to keep his arm from moving while I fumbled with the needle, but much to my relief I hit the vein on my first attempt, taped the canula in place and set up the saline drip, hanging the bag from a picture hook above the bed. With that done, I injected a dose of penicillin into it and then returned to my book.

It was now late evening and Krycek seemed to be a little calmer, breathing less laboured, although that may just be wishful thinking. He was still burning up and in my last attempt to dry him off and change his pajamas, I'd realised the drip only added to the problems. I'd had to cut off the pajama shirt rather than try to disconnect the tube and this time I left his upper half undressed, merely wrapping the blankets more securely around him instead.

I got up and went into the kitchen to find something to eat. I'd been too tired the previous night to eat and all I'd had during the day was some bread I'd found in the freezer and a couple tins of soup that had been left in one of the cupboards. There were few supplies although there were still some items in the freezer. I defrosted a pack of bacon to make sandwiches, hoping that it would still be edible after months in the freezer. I would need to either go into Willamsport the next day or have a store deliver for me. The latter seemed like the best option - I doubted I would be able to leave my 'patient' for some time.

I wolfed down the plateful of sandwiches and replaced the empty bag of saline with a new one, administered another dose of penicillin to Krycek and then attempted to get some sleep. The guest room mattress was still drying out so I took a blanket into the living room and slept on the couch. My rest was repeatedly disturbed by groans and muttering coming from the bedroom. When I rose again at dawn I felt no better and I made some strong coffee and then set about attending to Krycek again. I took his temperature, discovering it was down by half a degree, hooked up another bag of saline, injected more penicillin and changed the bed sheets and his pajama pants. He smelled of stale sweat and I did the best I could to wash him down with a sponge, relieved that at least he wasn't hydrated enough to need to piss again for the moment.

He barely stirred during all of this and I examined the bruises he'd sustained during his beating. There seemed to be very little change and I imagined his body must be struggling to heal him while coping with being so sick. I called Scully with an update and she calmly told me that I could expect my 'friend' to recover in approximately two or three weeks, possibly a little quicker if he responded well to the antibiotics. I groaned audibly. It was too much time. I had a life to get on with - as it was, my vacation was ruined, but what was I to do when my two weeks were up? Presumably he would be well enough to take care of himself by then, but I wasn't prepared to leave someone I barely knew - a traitor to all intents and purposes - in my home. I glanced at him through the open door, his head rolling from side to side on the pillow, arm tugging at the dressing gown cord securing it although he wasn't conscious enough to realise he was restrained. Would he get better at all?

Scully tried again to encourage me to take him to a hospital or at least have a doctor look at him and she also did her best to get out of me who it was that I was caring for, but I avoided the question the way I had the first time and reminded her not to say anything. I knew she was suspicious and worried that I was causing problems for myself in whatever I was doing. I was in an impossible position, all thanks to the Smoking Man, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I'd had to make a decision and now I had to live with it.

The following day I decided to try to do something about Krycek's prosthetic arm. The night hadn't been so bad. He slept for most of it and his temperature was down another half a degree although now he was conscious more often than not, moaning and struggling, gradually pulling the cord tighter around his wrist until I was forced to remove it. Mercifully he didn't try to remove the oxygen mask or disconnect the tube attached to yet another bag of saline and I stayed in the room while I studied the straps attached to the plastic limb. They were a combination of canvas and soft leather and had been torn or cut in three places. Years before, my father had worked leather as a hobby, making belts, a purse for my mother, mending shoes and so on. He'd taught me a few of these skills and I had never gotten rid of his tools and equipment. Anything of my parents' that I'd wanted to keep, I had brought to the cabin after I sold their house. I found the things in a box in the guest bedroom and set to work replacing one strap and mending the others. I was pleased with the result and assumed it would be wearable when Krycek recovered.

Another day and night passed. The cupboards and refrigerator were now full of supplies after I'd had a supermarket make a delivery and I made myself a proper meal and attempted to get Krycek to drink some water. He was conscious and coughing almost constantly. A few times he tried to speak, but was forced to give up, sucking hard at the oxygen in an effort to breathe, his face almost purple. I checked his temperature again and found it to be the same.

The next day, finally there was more of an improvement. I woke on the couch to the sound of coughing and got up to go to the bedroom. Krycek was awake, both eyes open although the area around the injured one was still swollen and bruised. He had pulled the elastic securing the mask off his head, but was holding it to his face, alternately coughing and gasping. I noted the saline bag was empty and unhooked it. He removed the mask and breathed in slowly.

"You did all this?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I already got rid of your body once, remember?" I joked. "I didn't want to have to do it again."

He stared at me in puzzlement. "Where are we?"

"My cabin, close to Williamsport."

"I thought you were going to..." He broke off and coughed, clutching his chest in pain until he was forced to replace the oxygen mask and breathe. When the episode abated, he removed it again. "I thought you were...going to...take me to a motel."

"You were too sick. You'd probably have died. You should stop talking, it's making you cough more."

"I'm okay. How long have I been here?"

"About four days. I seem to have lost track of time."

"I wrecked your vacation." He stopped and broke into hacking coughs again, rolling onto his side and holding the mask to his face. I reached out and placed my hand between his shoulder blades, noting he felt less sticky and not quite so warm.

"It's not over yet," I said. I was relieved by the slight improvement - if he was talking and lucid he had to be getting better. "I need to check your temperature."

He removed the mask and put it down, rubbing his chest. "I fucking ache all over."

"That's normal, even if you hadn't been beaten as well. Open your mouth." I stuck the thermometer under his tongue and checked it a minute later. "102," I muttered.

"High."

"It was 104 previously. You think you can drink something?"

"Yeah."

"I guess I can get rid of this, then," I said, indicating the canula.

"I didn't know you were a doctor."

"I'm not. Tore my arm up practicing before I tried it on you," I grimaced.

"You...uh..." More coughing. "You...shouldn't have..."

The oxygen mask had slipped off the side of the bed to the floor and I grabbed it quickly, placing it over his nose and mouth as he spluttered and gasped, eyes wide. "Stop...talking," I said slowly and firmly. "Just breathe."

He nodded slightly and flopped onto his back, sucking hard at the oxygen. I picked his hand up from where it lay on the mattress and put it on the mask, indicating he should hold it in place. "I'll get you some water."

"Uh..."

When I returned, he drank the entire glass of water in slow sips, with me propping his shoulders up with one arm and holding the glass in my free hand. He tried to grip it once, grumbling that he wasn't helpless, but quickly proved the opposite when his hand shook and his arm sank weakly back onto the bed.

"Scully said it could be two or three weeks before you're better," I said.

_"What? _You talked to...?" He jerked upright and this time I was forced to restrain him, pushing him back against the pillows and grabbing his forearm, pinning it to his side. He was coughing so hard I feared he might rupture something and I gingerly let go of him with one hand to give him the oxygen again.

"Stop! Lie still!" I exclaimed. "You have pneumonia. Scully doesn't know anything. I called her because I thought you might die - just said I had a sick friend. She gave me some advice and sent me some medical supplies, that's all. No one knows you're here, Alex, so calm down."

His eyes closed, covering the bright green orbs and he lay panting until he caught his breath. Then despite my instructions he removed the mask again, looked up at me and spoke in a whisper. "I don't understand why you're doing...all of this...for me."

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself," I sighed.

"I'm sorry, Walter. Another day or two...I'll be out of...your hair."

I laughed suddenly, running a hand over my bald head. "You'll be in no condition to go anywhere in two days. I doubt you'd make it to the door. Look...just...stay here until you get over this."

"I...alright, I get it. Don't talk." He shut his mouth and replaced the mask. I got up and went to refill the water, also pouring a bottle of chocolate milkshake that had been part of the grocery order into a separate glass. It was the type of protein-filled shake that I drank when I was working out and I figured that it would at least be some sort of nourishment if he wasn't yet able to eat. However, when I returned to the bedroom, he was asleep, breathing noisily through his mouth.

Later in the day when he woke again, he drank both the water and the shake. His temperature was down to 101, but he was wheezing horribly and didn't seem able to get his breath. He didn't even attempt to speak to me and when he finished the milkshake, he merely curled up on his side with the oxygen mask firmly clasped over his face. When I rose to leave the room to make myself some lunch, he glanced up anxiously and I got the feeling he didn't want to be left alone. Again I wondered at this side of him that I was seeing. He seemed to trust me to take care of him and I felt an odd sense of satisfaction that I was providing for another person's every need. I immediately cursed myself for that thought and pushed it aside, but I finished my lunch and returned to the bedroom quickly, a book in my hand. I would read some more to pass the time and keep him company.

The rest of the day passed quietly enough. I heated up some soup for Alex later in the day, pouring it into a mug so that it would be easier for him to consume. After two mugfuls and another glass of water he fell asleep again and I removed myself to watch the television in the living room for a couple hours. It was when I switched the set off that I heard sounds from the bedroom that indicated he was having nightmares again - groans and whimpers, muttered phrases in Russian. I strode into the room just as he rolled over, pinning his arm beneath his body and effectively trapping himself. He thrashed and kicked, gasping out those words I'd heard a few times before - "_Ne trogayte menya."_

"Alex!" I couldn't remember when I'd stopped calling him Krycek. "Wake up!" I shook his shoulder carefully and he yelped out those words again before dissolving into a coughing fit. He was awake, but still struggling and panicking, unable to move with his arm trapped. I slid my hands under him and pulled him upright, effectively freeing the limb. My arm gripped him tightly while I grabbed the oxygen mask and placed it over his face. His hand clutched at my back and he rested against me, trembling and spluttering into the mask.

"What the fuck...is happening...to me?" he gasped after a minute or two, weakly trying to pull away from me.

"It was just a nightmare. Hold this." I indicated the mask and then lowered him back onto the pillows. "It's just me. You're okay."

"I hate this," he said through his teeth. "It's not me. I..." He breathed deeply for a moment. "I never had to...rely on anyone. I need...a fucking shower. And a piss." His face coloured slightly and he closed his eyes to avoid looking at me.

"Sometimes you just have to admit you need help," I said. "I've been there. I was in the Marines, in Vietnam. Most of my platoon were killed and I was badly injured. It was way worse than pneumonia, let me tell you. Being spoon fed, bed baths, the lot."

"You gave me bed baths?" Alex opened one eye curiously.

"Uh...yeah...a couple. You sweated like a pig," I grunted. "Come on - bathroom. Don't even try to make out you can get there by yourself."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"And you can take a bath. You'd never stay upright in the shower."

"I take it there isn't room for two in there, then."

I glanced at him, shocked. His face looked solemn, but his eyes twinkled. Ignoring the statement, I threw the blankets down to the bottom of the bed and gathered him up into my arms.

"Sorry. Guess a guy like you wouldn't even contemplate that idea."

"Well, you don't really know anything about me, do you?" I dumped him unceremoniously on the toilet seat. "You're gonna have to piss sitting down." I turned my back on him and bent to push the plug into the bath, then got the water running. By the time I turned back, Alex was reaching awkwardly behind him to flush the toilet, my pajama pants around his thighs. He made an attempt to stand up and quickly abandoned it, coughing and wheezing.

"Do you need the oxygen?"

"No."

I helped him up, supporting him on shaky legs and trying to ignore the fact that his naked body was resting lightly against mine, the pants having fallen to his ankles.

"What did you mean?" he asked.

"When?"

"When you said I don't really know anything about you."

"It doesn't matter." I helped him get in the bath and sit down, then backed away with relief.

"Are you into guys, Walter?" he pressed, staring avidly at the sponge on the side of the bath.

"I guess you could say I like a bit of both," I answered awkwardly. "You needn't worry, I won't touch you - like that." I felt my face flushing and was glad I was out of his line of sight. How the hell had this come up in conversation?

"I wasn't worried. I'd say you'd be hard pushed to want...this." He shrugged his shoulders and raised his stump, hanging his head.

"That wasn't what I meant," I said, cursing inwardly.

"You could barely bring yourself to look at it when you first saw me," he pointed out.

"That was...shock...at how it happened. It doesn't bother me," I said earnestly.

"I can't actually believe we're having this conversation." He shook his head and let out a bark of a laugh before coughing overtook him and he bent almost double, head between his knees, struggling for breath.

"Fuck." I raced back into the bedroom for the oxygen, dragging the canister back with me, the mask at the end of its tube in the other hand. "Alex...here..." I knelt beside the bath and touched his shoulder, passing him the mask. "Stop talking," I told him once again. "Hold that..." I picked up the sponge. "...and I'll do this."

"Nuh..." he protested weakly, still wheezing.

"It's not the first time," I added with a grin. "But it'll certainly be easier than a bed bath."

He sat still, breathing deeply and I soaped up the sponge and began to wash his upper back and shoulders, then his armpits. He leaned back when instructed and rested against the bath while I sponged his chest, concentrating determinedly on the task in hand despite my eyes noticing the smoothness of his skin. His pecs were firm and well defined and he had small dark nipples. I turned my attention to his arm, gripping his bicep while I lathered him with the other hand. I could feel his eyes on me, possibly searching my face and I forced myself not to look up. What should have been about a sick man needing help suddenly seemed a little different and my pulse was racing. I struggled to keep my breathing even as I finished with the arm and released it, then paused to add more soap to the sponge. Alex stiffened when I lifted my hand toward the remains of his left arm, but it really didn't bother me now, as I had told him. I slid my hand underneath it, holding it firmly while I washed it and then plunged the sponge back into the water to rinse him off. When I dropped my hand away, I let out the breath I'd unconsciously been holding and made myself view the rest of the process the same way I had over the past few days. One leg at a time, then I helped him get up and sit on the side of the bath. He relinquished the oxygen mask and washed his own nether regions. I found a large dry towel and wrapped him in it, letting the fluffy fabric absorb the majority of the moisture.

I let the water out of the bath and left Alex brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush I'd found in the bathroom cupboard, while I took the oxygen back into the bedroom and changed the sheets on the bed. When I went back to the bathroom, he was done and sitting on the toilet lid, wrapped from chest to knees in the towel.

"I'll be glad when my legs start to work again," he said wryly.

I gave him a brief smile and stooped, sliding an arm around his waist. "Hold onto me." His arm came up around my neck and held on tight as I picked him up again and took him back to bed. By the time I had removed the towel and covered him up with sheet and blankets, his eyelids were drooping and he burrowed his head into the pillow with a sigh.

"Thank you, Walter," he murmured and then immediately slept.

That night I finally got a decent amount of sleep. I retired to the couch and the minute I stretched out under the blanket, I was dead to the world. It was daylight before I opened my eyes and I lay listening to the silence in the house. I had taken my wristwatch off and placed it on the coffee table and I reached out to pick it up and check the time - almost nine. I got up quickly and went to the bathroom to relieve myself and clean my teeth, then went to check on Alex. He was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed and wearing the pajama pants I'd left on the nightstand. He appeared to be attempting to get on his feet, but was breathing hard, gripping the edge of the bed firmly.

"Don't even think about standing up," I told him. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

"How's your breathing?"

"My chest hurts, but it's not too bad." He stopped and coughed, less violently than the previous day. He didn't require the oxygen and it stopped in less than a minute.

"You want help getting to the bathroom?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

With my help, he was able to stand, albeit shakily. We shuffled, one step at a time to the bathroom and I left him there to take care of business while I returned to the kitchen and set about making breakfast - bacon, sausage, eggs, mushrooms, toast and coffee. I was about to go back to the bathroom to check on Alex when the door opened and he took a step outside, then collapsed quickly onto the chair I kept beside the table that held the telephone in the hallway.

"Damn it, I'm so fucking weak," he wheezed when I reached him.

"It's not even been a week. I'm surprised you can stand at all." I helped him up and held onto him firmly, noticing that his skin felt cooler. "Are you warm enough?"

"Not really." He shivered to emphasise the point and after I'd assisted him to the couch in the living room, I fetched one of my t-shirts for him to wear. Then I brought the breakfast in on a large tray and sat beside him as we ate. He finished most of the food and then subsided against the cushions, coughing and breathing hard. I moved the plates away and grabbed the blanket I'd been sleeping under, tucking it around him.

"Have you been sleeping here?" he asked.

"Uh...yeah."

"There's only one bedroom?"

"No, there's two, but...the other one's not...uh...made up," I said. I wasn't going to tell him the reason - I could imagine the look of mortification on his face. I changed the subject. "I fixed your arm. At least I hope it'll be okay." I retrieved the limb from the other side of the room and placed it on his lap. "What do you think?"

"You did this?"

"Yeah, my dad had a hobby working with leather. His tools and things were still here so I thought I'd give it a try."

"It looks better than before." He smiled suddenly and immediately he looked brighter and much younger. "Thanks, Walter. I'm gonna owe you for the rest of my life at this rate. I still don't know why you're doing all of this. All I've done is cause you problems."

"You needed help," I shrugged. "Who else would have done it?"

"But I know well enough what you and the others at the Bureau think of me."

"You explained why you did the things you did. I'm sure you're not the first that the Smoking Man has forced into doing his bidding and you certainly won't be the last."

"I did some shitty things to you," he sighed. "Retrieving the DAT tape from you at the hospital..."

"Yeah, there is that." I frowned suddenly as I remembered Alex and two other operatives attacking me in a stairwell. I'd fought back and been doing okay, but I didn't really have a hope of winning against three. I'd eventually been knocked unconscious and came to my senses some time later with a bleeding head, fractured ribs and the tape missing.

"I'm sorry," Alex said sadly. "I wish I could take that back. Were you hurt much?"

"No." I shook my head. "Few cracked ribs..."

"Fuck!" He paled and lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Walter. I know it's a bit late for that..."

"It was a long time ago," I said shortly. "Too much has happened since then for it to be a concern now. You were just a puppet, Alex. What would have happened if you refused to do that? You'd have been in this position long ago."

"Yeah. Maybe I would."

"It's alright." I reached out and gave his stump a squeeze, surprised by my need to reassure him. He _had _hurt me. He had fists like steel - at least he had then, when he had two of them. He had been the one out of the three who did the most damage and he'd made no apologies for it - until now. But it hadn't really been his choice.

He gave me a brief grateful look and then leaned away from me, resting his elbow on the arm of the couch and his head on his hand. I took the prosthetic off his lap and placed it on the table, then went to clear away the breakfast things. When I returned to the living room he was asleep.


	4. Chapter 4 - Recovery

**Part 4 - Recovery**

The rest of the day passed relatively quietly. Alex slept for most of it, waking only to eat again and use the bathroom. He seemed to be breathing easier, but his temperature was still a little high and he retired early. The following day was no different, although he slept less and complained about being weak and bored. I longed to go out hiking or fishing, but didn't think it was a good idea to leave him alone, so I continued to occupy myself with reading and television.

That night another problem arose and when I woke to find the cabin freezing cold, I immediately realised what had happened. It had been snowing heavily the previous evening and it was common for the power cables in the area to come down under the weight of snow. This must have occurred and with electricity being the sole power supply, we were without heat and light. I checked the time and discovered it to be just after three.

"Fuck," I muttered, throwing back the bed covers. I had been sleeping in the guest room for the past two nights and I groped in the bedside table for my flashlight before I realised it was in the other room - my own room. Fumbling in the darkness, I pulled on a sweater and pants over my pajamas, then headed quietly into the other room to retrieve the flashlight. I kept a generator in the small outbuilding at the back of the cabin and I was going to have to venture outside to get it hooked up.

"Walter?" Alex's voice startled me as I removed the flashlight from the drawer next to the other bed and I paused, half bent over.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?"

"The power's out. I keep a flashlight in here. I'm gonna have to go out and get the generator hooked up." I turned the light on, aiming it at the floor.

"What time is it?" Alex asked and I noticed steam coming from his mouth as he spoke. The temperature had dropped further than I expected.

"After three. Stay there and keep warm."

"Some chance of that, it's fucking freezing in here," he muttered, coughing slightly.

I ignored him and went to the front door, putting on hiking boots and jacket before I pulled the door open. I was faced with a foot deep drift of snow and I stepped out into it reluctantly and closed the door again. It took me a minute or so to make my way to the outbuilding, by which time my pants legs were soaked to the knees and snow was melting into my boots. I spent another minute or two checking the generator and the jerry can I kept for its fuel and quickly discovered both were empty. It was some time since I'd visited the cabin in winter and usually I would check this on arrival, but I'd been distracted by having to care for Alex. Furious with myself, I stomped back through the snow to the cabin and stripped off my wet things. There was nothing I could do until daylight and it was unlikely I would be able to drive out to the main roads. I would have to order fuel in and hope it could be delivered that day.

"Did you fix it?" Alex called out from the main bedroom.

"No. Not much I can do about it tomorrow." I cursed myself again and made my way back to the guest bedroom.

"Have you got any more blankets?"

I hadn't and the only option facing me wasn't an appealing one. I stood shivering at the side of the bed, realising that I wasn't going to get a wink of sleep now and with Alex still sick, the last thing he needed was to be cold.

"Fuck it," I muttered, tugging the two heavy blankets from the bed. I strode back into the other room and spread them out over the bed, then dived into the empty side of it quickly. Immediately I heard Alex's surprised gasp.

"What...?"

"They're my blankets," I said. "Not much choice. You have to stay warm." I stretched out facing away from him, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. "Don't worry, I'll keep my distance."

"I'm not worried. My...uh...deformity still bothers you."

"I told you I don't care about that," I grunted. "It seems like it bothers you more than anyone else."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't been with anyone since it happened," he said quietly.

"You're kidding me!" I exclaimed in surprise, rolling onto my back.

"Why? Do you think I fuck around?" He sounded surprisingly bitter.

"I...um..." I glanced sideways at him and wondered how the hell we had got into this conversation. The fact that I was lying in bed with Alex talking about sex horrified me, but at the same time I couldn't seem to get the sudden image of him naked in the arms of some faceless guy out of my head.

"I did it once when I was eighteen," he told me. _"Once_. Fucking jerk didn't know what he was doing or didn't care. It was hardly any better than...what happened before I wound up on your balcony again so no, I don't fuck around. I go for subs who'll blow me and then walk away after, but like I said, that was before Tunguska."

"Shit," I muttered. "I'm sorry, I..." I was at a loss and at the same time surprised that I wanted to reach out to him - comfort him somehow. The faceless guy in my head was suddenly me, holding him, caressing him, pressing my fingers into him and making sure he enjoyed every second. My cock twitched and I felt my face burning with embarrassment. What the hell was I thinking?

"I don't really care, it suits the purpose," he said casually, belying everything he'd said previously. "Go to sleep, Walter."

I didn't think I had much hope of going back to sleep. I gradually warmed up again under the heavy layers of blankets, but my cock throbbed impatiently and embarrassingly, aching to be touched as I struggled to think about anything other than sex. It had been far too long since I had even so much as jerked off and now it was all I could think about. I clenched my fists at my sides and tried to breathe slow and deep, willing myself to relax. After a while Alex's breathing changed, indicating he was asleep and I calmed down marginally, but it was another half hour or so before my erection finally began to subside enough for me to sleep too.

When I woke again I was warm and comfortable and...hard. I also had company. I opened my eyes, my heart beginning to pound as I realised that I had turned to face Alex in my sleep and he was now pressed tight against me, his hand clutching the front of my pajama shirt, his face in my neck. I could feel warm breath on my skin and I quickly became aware of the fact that he was as hard as I was. His erection was crushed against my thigh and it was all I could do not to move and bring my own groin into contact with him. My balls ached and my dick was so hard I felt as if I could cum from the slightest touch.

At once my thoughts began to head in the same direction that they had before I fell asleep. I imagined Alex waking, raising his head to meet my eyes, then sliding his hand down to touch me. I could almost feel his hand rubbing me through my pants, encouraging me to touch him too. I had seen him naked enough times and I could visualise what his cock looked like hard, curving up against his belly, the head swollen and red, the thick shaft throbbing as I wrapped my hand around it.

He moved slightly at that moment, his hips pushing forward and grinding his cock harder against my thigh. He was probably going to wake up very soon and I was horrified at the thought of him finding us in this position. I backed away carefully, an inch at a time, pausing to pry his hand off my shirt until at last I was able to slip from the bed. He didn't stir and I heaved a sigh of relief as I tiptoed out of the room and returned to the guest room to grab my dressing gown. My pajama pants were jutting out obscenely, an obvious wet patch surrounding the head of my cock. I headed for the bathroom, thinking I would get in the shower and jerk off until I remembered there was no hot water. Instead I sat on the toilet lid, pushed my pants down around my thighs and wrapped my hand around my erection. I sucked my breath in at the sensation and closed my eyes. One pump, then two. I was so close and when I erupted over my hand seconds later, I cursed myself for being so turned on by the man lying asleep in my bed, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I was no longer seeing him as a traitor or an assassin, but a young, attractive, sexy man with beautiful eyes and a hard, toned body that I badly wanted to get my hands on. He seemed more concerned about his arm making him unappealing than the fact that he'd been taken by force and I wondered...

"No!" I exclaimed under my breath. It would be asking for trouble. He was still sick and when he was well, I needed to get rid of him as quickly as possible before somehow one of the Smoking Man's recruits found out he wasn't dead and came looking for me. In the meantime, I had a more pressing problem to deal with.

I cleaned up, used the toilet, brushed my teeth and went back to the guest room to put on some warm clothes. It was light outside and I needed to sort out the generator as soon as possible, otherwise I'd be spending another night in the same position. Cautiously I looked into the other room and discovered Alex now awake, still buried up to the neck under the pile of blankets.

"Do you...uh...need anything?" I grunted.

"I'd say coffee, but I guess you can't manage that right now."

"I'm going out to try to get some gas," I said.

"How bad is it?"

"I'm not sure until I go out. There was about a foot of snow around the cabin, but I don't know about the road. I might be a while."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere." He gave me a wry smile.

"Yeah. See you later, then."

I backed out of the room with relief and in a few minutes I was outside, trudging through the snow to where I had left the car to check whether the road would be passable if I dug the vehicle out of the drift it was sitting in. Not a chance in hell.

"Damn it," I muttered. The only thing I could do was hike out to the main road and hitch a ride into town. I fetched the jerry can from the outbuilding and set off, relieved that at least no more snow was falling. I walked for perhaps twenty minutes and then to my surprise, the sound of an engine caught my attention. A truck was approaching slowly from my left and I recognised the owner of one of the other cabins in the area, clearly heading out. He halted and leaned out of the window.

"Hey, Walter! Haven't seen you around here in a while."

"Morning, Jeb. It's a while since I had the time."

"I'm heading home. You need a ride anywhere?"

"Yeah, thanks." I headed around to the passenger door and climbed in quickly. "Forgot to check the generator when I arrived, I was planning to walk down to the highway and hitch."

"You need digging out?" Jeb offered as we began to move slowly.

"No, thanks, I just need to get gas."

"You may as well have what I've got left. I won't be back until the summer." He halted the truck and began to turn awkwardly on the snowy track. "Save you a trip into town."

"Thanks." I heaved a sigh of relief. "I'll pay for whatever you give me."

"There's two five-gallon barrels up there," he went on.

In less than ten minutes we had reached the other cabin and I helped the other man lug the two barrels out of his shack and load them into the back of the truck. In just another half hour the barrels were stowed in my own outbuilding and Jeb was on his way. I filled the generator, got it running and hooked up the power cables to the cabin. I went back indoors and removed coat, boots and gloves. I checked the heating was switched on and filled the kettle to make coffee. I could hear Alex coughing in the bathroom and guessed the cold must have brought on another attack. He sounded as if he couldn't catch his breath and I retrieved the oxygen before I went to the closed door and knocked on it.

"Alex?"

He didn't answer and I pushed the door open, finding him leaning against the sink with one of the blankets wrapped around him, his face red as he coughed and wheezed.

"Here." I placed the mask over his mouth and nose and turned the supply on. He sucked hard at the oxygen for a minute or two and the coughing gradually stopped. He let go of the blanket to take the mask from me, his hand shaking and I automatically slid an arm around him to support him. I could feel the shape of another arm hanging at his side and realised he must have put the prosthetic on.

"Are you done in here?" I asked and he nodded. "It'll soon be warm again, the generator's running now." I explained how the neighbour had saved me a long and arduous trip into Williamsport as I helped Alex back into the bedroom. He sank into the bed with relief, his left arm remaining on top of the blankets.

"I figured I...might as well try to...look more normal," he said breathlessly, his voice muffled by the mask.

"You look fine either way," I said.

"You're not supposed to try to make me feel better."

"Maybe you seem like you could use it." I rested the palm of my hand on his forehead and grimaced. He was cold and sweaty. "Do you want coffee and some hot food?"

"Yeah, thanks."

I left him and went to the kitchen, quickly making coffee and some bacon and cheese toasties, this being the fastest option. I sat on the bed beside Alex while we shared the food. He had removed the mask and didn't need the oxygen any more, but he was pale and looked worse than he had the previous day. I removed the remains of the meal and stayed in the room reading while he slept on and off for most of the day, occasionally disturbed by nightmares. I was beginning to worry that what had seemed like the beginning of his recovery now appeared to have been nothing of the sort. However, when he woke in the late evening his temperature seemed close to normal and although he coughed at intervals, he was hungry and cursing the fact that he'd fallen asleep with the prosthetic on, which he explained was uncomfortable. He removed it while I went to prepare another meal and afterwards I left him alone and went to sleep in the guest room, surprisingly reluctantly.

The next two days passed slowly. Alex was steadily recovering and making his way around the cabin, promising to leave me to enjoy the rest of my vacation as soon as the snow had cleared enough for me to drive him into town. I wasn't so sure he was up to it yet, but I didn't say anything. No more snow had fallen, but that on the ground was showing no signs of melting so he couldn't go anywhere yet. I had been doing my best to occupy myself with things that would take my mind off the thoughts I'd started to have about him, but it wasn't really working. I was feeling progressively uncomfortable as I tried to avoid looking at him and I wondered if he had noticed any change in my behaviour.

The following morning I woke early to find myself hard again, which had been the case for the past few days. I rolled over onto my side with a groan, relieved that at least now the heating was back on, I could do something about it in the shower. I had got into the habit of jerking off in there, standing under the hot spray with my eyes closed and doing my best not to imagine Alex's hand on my cock or mine on his.

I slid out of bed and headed quietly toward the bathroom, then halted outside the half open door, holding my breath, when I realised it was occupied. The room was partly lit by the faint grey light of dawn coming in the window and I immediately saw Alex sitting on a towel spread over the toilet lid, completely naked. His head was thrown back, eyes closed and his hand was slowly pumping his erection. It looked just the way I imagined, curving upward slightly, pale and thick, the head swollen and flushed with colour. I bit into my lip to suppress the groan that threatened to burst from me as I continued to watch. He was breathing rapidly through parted lips, chest rising and falling and his abs moving under the taut, pale skin. His thighs were spread wide and my own cock throbbed urgently in my pants as I watched him quicken his pace, palm sweeping over his tip to capture the precum oozing from him and then stroking it down his shaft. His balls were tight against his body and his hand moved faster, indicating he was close. His hips began to move in time with his hand movements, thrusting up as he fucked his fist.

Beads of sweat broke out of my pores and soaked into my pajamas and I could feel my cock leaking, desperate for me to give it the same treatment that Alex was giving his. I longed to walk in there and replace his hand with mine, but just as I had done before, I told myself not to be a fool. He wouldn't want it and I certainly didn't...shouldn't. I took a careful step backward, knowing I was in danger of getting caught if I didn't remove myself before he finished, but I couldn't stop watching. He was uttering soft little moans as his orgasm approached, toes curling into the mat on the floor, thighs taut and quivering, back arching. His hand moved almost impossibly fast and in a few more seconds, thick spurts of cum exploded from him, painting his stomach and a deep groan rumbled up from his chest. I tiptoed away silently, my heart pounding and my own orgasm so close I wouldn't have been surprised if the simple light rub of my pajama pants against my dick brought me off.

Abandoning the idea of the shower, I closed the guest room door and got back into bed, my hand sliding into my pants before I had even slipped beneath the covers. I closed my eyes and grasped myself firmly, using my other hand to squeeze my balls, tugging on them in an effort to delay things while I conjured up another image in my head. Alex in the bathroom, the way he had been just moments ago, his cock in his hand and a desperate, pleasured look on his face.

_"Let me give you a hand," I said quietly as I walked into the room._

_His eyes flew open and met mine, a look of shock in them while at the same time his pupils were blown with desire. I lowered myself to my knees on the mat between his feet and rested my hands on his thighs, stroking the firm flesh and pushing them further apart. He released his cock and rested his hand on his belly, watching as my hands drifted closer to his groin, my fingertips teasing his sack and gradually reaching the base of his erection._

_"Please, Walter," he moaned, pushing his hips forward a little. His cock throbbed in front of me, the tip red and leaking. It was a long time since I'd blown anyone - much too long. I'd done it enough times before I met Sharon, but after we split, I was more of a selfish lover. I had no intention of being selfish with Alex - I longed to make him feel good. I wrapped my hand around his thick shaft, pumping it a few times and rubbing my thumb over the tip before I guided it into my mouth, teasing the crown with my tongue._

_Alex squirmed and moaned, his fist clenching on his stomach and his hips bucking upward slightly, trying to push himself deeper into my mouth. I ducked my head lower, taking two or three inches in, following the movement of my mouth with my hand. I could taste the salty, sourness of precum on my tongue and I sucked harder, bobbing my head and pumping my hand faster. Alex groaned and cursed, his hand moving to my head and clutching at the back of my neck. I took my hands off him and slipped them under his hips instead, encouraging him to fuck my mouth. He did so, vigorously, the head of his cock thrusting into my throat. I relaxed and breathed through my nose, managing to control my gag reflex with willpower. He was so close and I didn't want to spoil it for him._

_"God, Walter, I'm gonna cum!" he panted suddenly, blunt nails digging into the back of my neck. Seconds later he flooded my mouth and I gulped rapidly, then pulled off a little and continued to suck until I'd drawn every drop from him._

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath as I coated my hand and belly with cum, raising my knee to push the bed covers up enough to save them from becoming stained. I was panting hard and I could feel heat in my face, embarrassment that I'd watched Alex jerk off and then done the same while imagining sucking him. It was going to make facing him even more uncomfortable and I elected to stay in bed a while longer although I removed my pajama shirt and used it to clean myself up.

I could hear the shower running and my imagination ran wild again. I pictured him standing there in the stall, eyes closed, his hand running over his body and lathering himself in shower gel. My softening cock twitched again and I determinedly ignored it, fighting to think about something else. It was going to be a long few days before Alex was well enough to leave and put a distance between us and I wondered if I would manage to hold out or if I would eventually give in and touch him.


	5. Chapter 5 - Temptation

**Part 5 - Temptation**

I turned the volume of the TV down to answer my cellphone, somewhat reluctantly when I realised it was Scully. I hadn't been in touch with her since I'd asked her advice on how to treat Alex and I knew she was going to question me about my 'friend'. I only had four days left until I returned to the Bureau and I meant to make the most of it. The snow was melting and I might actually be able to get out and hike or fish which had been my original plan.

"Scully," I answered curtly.

"Good morning, Sir. I'm calling to find out how your friend's doing."

"Yeah, he's better, thanks. Temperature normal, cough almost gone, just some weakness remaining."

"He's recovered very quickly then. I'm glad, Sir."

"Was there anything else?"

"Are you still planning to return on Monday?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I answered a little more sharply than I intended.

"Well...um...I hear the weather's been bad up there and I thought perhaps you might need to stay longer with..."

"The snow's melting, I'll be back as planned," I interrupted. "I'll talk to you Monday. Goodbye, Scully." I ended the call before she could reply, wondering why I felt so bad-tempered about going back to work. I was irritated with myself for a number of reasons, most of them revolving around Alex. I hadn't been able to get the image of him jerking off out of my head and I'd had a constant struggle to control myself in the past couple of days. I'd masturbated morning and night, cursing myself every time and trying to stop myself thinking what I was thinking. He was so fucking hot and I tried to tell myself it was my imagination, but there were occasions where I could swear he was flirting with me. It was hardly anything - mostly only a _look,_ but whatever it was, it repeatedly got me hot under the collar. Even if he didn't have the issues with his arm and hadn't been raped less than two weeks ago I couldn't imagine he'd actually want me near him. I didn't think I was unattractive - I worked out regularly and I was muscular and firm, but I had more hair on my chest than my head and I was the wrong side of forty. I certainly didn't see myself as sexy and I couldn't imagine myself appealing to a twenty-six year old..._boy._

"Fuck," I muttered. I was hard again, my cock throbbing in my jeans, tempting me to go to the bathroom and relieve it. It was early and Alex was still in bed, but I expected him to emerge at any moment. I talked myself out of it and instead decided that I was going to do something with my day and try to put it all out of my head.

It was another thirty minutes before Alex emerged from his room - _my _room - wearing a pair of my pajama pants and no shirt, sleepily rubbing his eyes, hair standing on end. I already had on my hiking jacket and boots and was in the process of winding a scarf around my neck. I focused on the task to try to keep my eyes off his smooth chest, but my gaze was drawn to him helplessly when he lowered his hand from his face and scratched his stomach. His fingertips brushed through the narrow line of dark hair leading from his navel to the draw-string waist of the pants, his thumb stroking over perfect abs. My cock twitched and I turned away determinedly to locate a pair of gloves.

"Going out?" Alex said and yawned.

"Yeah...fishing," I grunted.

"Seriously?"

"I don't suppose that would appeal to you."

"Never tried it. Look, Walter...there's no real reason for me to stay here any more. I'm well enough. Maybe you could take me into the nearest town later on."

My guts clenched and I ground my teeth for a moment, astonished by the strength of my disappointment at the thought of him leaving. "Sure." I picked up a woolen hat and pulled it onto my head, then turned to look at him again reluctantly. He had his thumb tucked into the front of his pants and I dragged my eyes up to his face. "I thought you needed to go back to DC, though. You said you have a safety deposit box there."

"Uh...yeah...I'll make my way back there."

"If you're seen..."

"I won't be."

"Okay. We'll talk about it later." I turned away again and went to the cupboard where my fishing gear was stowed. "I'll be back in a few hours."

"See you."

I was aware of his eyes on me as I strode to the door and let myself out. The scowl spread over my face as I trudged into the trees through the slushy remains of the snow. Damn it, I didn't want him to leave. I'd gotten too used to having him around, even when he had done nothing except lay in bed having me take care of him. It wasn't just the fact that I was fucking desperate to touch him either, I acknowledged. Somehow, despite everything, I found I liked him and that didn't sit well with me. We'd spent too much time talking and getting to know each other. Maybe it would be better if he did leave right away, before my head became any more fucked up. If I had made a move and it turned out to be what he wanted, I'd wind up wanting more and it'd be worse when I returned to the Bureau.

I spent the next five or six hours feeling tense and frustrated rather than enjoying the tranquility of sitting on the small fold-out canvas chair beside the river, fishing rod in hand. At first I determinedly tried to think about other things, but it was a losing battle and in the end I gave up and simply thought of Alex. How had I ended up liking him? Why did I want him so much? It bugged the hell out of me and I had no answers. All I knew was that I wanted to hurry back to the cabin and pull him into my arms before it was too late, but I couldn't let myself do that. There were a dozen reasons why not and only one in favour of it - the one where I got to explore my fantasies with him.

I ignored my erection, unwilling to try jerking off in the freezing cold and broad daylight, but by the time I packed my equipment away, along with the two fish I'd caught, I was struggling for control and even more sour-tempered than when I'd left the cabin earlier. I stood outside the door for a moment before I let myself in, trying to calm myself down. Then finally I opened the door quietly and went to put my things away, placing the fish in a plastic box in the refrigerator ready to prepare later. I shed my outdoor gear and only then became aware of the sound of the shower running. Immediately my mind was filled with an image of Alex, naked and wet, stroking himself the way he had that day when I'd watched him sitting on the toilet seat doing it. My cock, which had remained at half mast for most of the day, strained upwards inside my jeans, throbbing impatiently and I pressed the heel of my hand over it. The bathroom door was open a crack and steam was seeping out into the hallway. I remained rooted to the spot for a full minute and then my feet began to carry me toward the door - the temptation was just too great.

The water stopped running and I heard the squeak of the shower door, then a soft rubbing sound as if he were towelling himself dry. My hand was raised to push the door open, my heart pounding in my chest and my glasses steaming up from the heat coming out of the room. I took them off impatiently and wiped them on my shirt, then jammed them back onto my face, silently cursing the fact that without them, everything was a blur. What the hell was I thinking? He would either freak out or simply be horrified that I wanted him. I stood there, internally fighting with myself and then suddenly the door swung open and he was right in front of me, wearing only a towel secured around his waist. I noticed that there was now little evidence of bruising on his skin. Water was still dripping from his hair and I watched as a droplet rolled down the centre of his chest and soaked into the towel. My eyes slid a little lower and landed on the unmistakable shape of his erection pushing against the fabric of the towel. I jerked my gaze back to his face in alarm and noticed the uncertain look in his eyes and the flush of colour staining his cheeks.

"I...uh...I wasn't expecting you back yet. I was just...uh..." His voice trailed off and he lowered his eyes. There was no trace of flirting this time and he looked embarrassed if anything.

_'Damn it, Walter, say something,' _I thought, but I couldn't get my mouth to work. Instead I licked my lips and cringed inwardly. I was never this awkward with either men or women and I felt as uncomfortable as Alex looked.

"I'll...get dressed and if you can drive me to...uh...Williamsport, you'll be free of me."

"You don't have to go," I blurted. "I mean...there's no rush, I'm here until Sunday."

"I thought I was in your way."

I tried to tell myself I was imagining the sudden look of hope on his face and I glanced down again, noting that he was still obviously hard. My cock throbbed, reminding me why I'd been lurking outside the bathroom in the first place and I told myself to do something - _anything _- rather than just stand there like a fucking tongue-tied idiot. If it back-fired on me, I could always just drive him into Williamsport after all. I swallowed hard, the air thick with tension between us. I could feel my heart thundering in my chest and blood rushing in my ears, my cock straining even more determinedly against my zipper.

"You're not," I heard myself say. "In the way, I mean."

"Okay." He licked his lips, the tip of his tongue catching a droplet of water that had trickled down his face from his wet hair. I stopped thinking and reached out instead, brushing the tips of my fingers lightly over his waist just above the edge of the towel. He sucked his breath in suddenly and when I risked another look at his face, I saw his eyes darken to the shade of moss. My hand slid around to the small of his back and rested there, fingers splayed out over his spine. The fact that he hadn't jerked away from me was encouraging and his eyes held mine, lips slightly parted.

"If you don't….want this...say so," I murmured.

His head moved fractionally, a tiny shake and he lifted his hand, laying it in the middle of my chest. He must have been able to feel the erratic pounding of my heart and my mind raced as I leaned in closer, wondering if I should kiss him or not. Some guys didn't like it and only wanted a hand job or to be sucked or...

I stopped over-thinking and brushed my lips over his, my eyes open to gauge his reaction. His lashes fluttered down to cover his eyes and a soft moan left him. Immediately my other hand was at the back of his neck, gripping him firmly as I covered his mouth with mine and plunged my tongue in. His response was immediate and urgent, his own tongue fighting with mine, our lips smashed together, teeth colliding, noses bumping awkwardly and knocking my glasses askew. I snatched them off my face and reached out blindly to drop them onto the chair outside the bathroom door, then replaced my hand on him, cupping the back of his head as we continued to kiss heatedly. My other arm tightened around him, drawing his body against mine and at once I felt his erection nudging my own through too many layers of clothing. His hand slid from my chest to my neck and he groaned again, the sound muffled by my mouth.

I broke the kiss, struggling to breathe, and ducked my head to taste his skin instead, biting gently just below his ear and then nibbling my way down to his shoulder. Alex was panting in my ear and letting out desperate-sounding moans and whimpers, his fingers digging into the back of my shoulder and his hips gyrating slightly in an effort to gain friction between us. I ran my hands down his body, stroking one along his ribcage and the other lowering to his ass, squeezing the firm muscled flesh through the towel as I ground myself against him. My cock was leaking into my underwear and there was a very real possibility that I would cum in my pants if I didn't get them off. I tugged at the towel, pulling it free and dropping it on the floor before I replaced my hand on his ass, groaning at the feel of him. He stiffened slightly and pressed his forehead against my shoulder.

"Uh...Walter...I can't fuck..."

"I know," I panted. "It's okay."

He relaxed against me, just resting there for a moment and then his hand left my neck and slipped between us. He fumbled with the front of my jeans until he had the buttons undone and my cock pushed into his hand, restrained only by my underwear.

"Fuck," I groaned, taking my hands off him just long enough to free myself from my boxer briefs. Then I wrapped one hand around his cock, sliding my fingers up his length and brushing my thumb over the head, collecting a bead of precum and smearing it down his shaft. He moaned and I tightened my grip, at the same time thrusting myself into his fist and gasping at the feel of his hand on me. I had been thinking about him touching me for days and now that he was, I had become embarrassingly close to losing control of myself after just a few seconds. I quickened the pace of my hand on him and he copied me, pushing me even closer to orgasm. My balls were tight against my body, heat coiling in the pit of my stomach and my thighs trembling.

I slid my other hand around to his back to hold onto him as we pumped each other frantically. I was desperate to kiss him again, despite needing to breathe and I brought our lips together clumsily. Mouths open, we kissed awkwardly, tongues sliding against each other around moans and pants. My spine tingled and I groaned into Alex's mouth as my orgasm crashed through me, my cock jerking repeatedly in his hand and shooting my load onto the bottom of my shirt and over his knuckles. He pressed his face into my neck, shivering and panting and then I felt him start to cum, his cock pulsing and spilling into my hand.

"Fuck, Walter," he hissed, leaning harder against me, hot breath on my skin as he continued to gasp for air. I took my hand off him, hesitated for a moment and then wiped it on the leg of my jeans before I wrapped my arm around him again and held him tight against me. He slid his hand out from between us and let his arm hang at his side for a moment, then took a step back and pulled against my hold. I let him go reluctantly and adjusted my clothes, grimacing at the mess.

"I...uh...I'm gonna need another shower," Alex said and laughed awkwardly. He avoided my eyes, seeming uncertain of what might happen next. I knew what I wanted to happen next and I unfastened the top button of my shirt and then paused.

"Yeah, me too. You want to share?"

"Uh...sure...okay." He took another step away from me and then halted, watching as I continued to undo my shirt buttons with shaky hands. His eyes were fixed on my chest as I slid the shirt down my arms and tossed it onto the floor in the corner of the room. My cock was still exposed and I quickly shoved both jeans and underwear down to my ankles, then bent to remove my socks. When I straightened again, he was still watching me, his cock only half softened. God, I wanted him so badly. I couldn't quite believe I was doing this, but nothing was going to stop me.

I stepped past him into the shower stall and turned the water on, wincing at the temperature which was set a little high for me. I adjusted it and waited for him to join me, pulling the door closed behind him. We were both big guys and there wasn't a lot of room, but I didn't plan on keeping my distance anyway. I hesitated only a few seconds before I pulled him against me, sliding both arms around his waist and biting my lip to stop myself groaning as I felt his cock rub against mine. At my age I usually needed a fair amount of time to be ready for a second round, but my limp cock twitched between my thighs at the feel of the hard, sexy body resting against me and again I marvelled that he wanted this, with me. I slid my hands lower to cup his ass, squeezed the firm muscles and he pressed himself harder against me, his hand running up my body to wrap around the back of my neck. My mouth covered his, caressing his lips more gently than before. His were soft, a sharp contrast to the rough stubble on his chin and I slowly deepened things, exploring his mouth with my tongue, savouring the taste of him. The deep groan that rose from his chest sent a rush of heat to my groin and my cock began to work its way upright between us.

Eventually I pulled back to breathe, forcing my heavy eyelids up to look at the handsome face in front of me. Alex's eyes were half open, the pupils dilated, lips red and swollen from my kisses. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he breathed and when I glanced down, my eyes were immediately drawn to his erection, rigid and quivering against his belly despite having cum so recently.

"Christ, Alex," I groaned.

He grinned slowly and dropped his eyes to run over my body, his hand lifting to stroke my chest. He dragged short nails through my chest hair and trailed them down over my abs, stopping short of my cock. It strained upwards, desperate to reach his hand and for a moment he rubbed his thumb over the tip, making me suck my breath in through my teeth. Then he took his hand away and reached for the shower gel. It was only then that I was reminded of his missing arm, as I watched him flip open the cap of the bottle with his thumb and pour the gel directly onto his chest before putting the bottle down and lathering himself up. I was so used to seeing him like that, it just seemed normal and I watched, teeth grinding into my lower lip as he stroked the suds down his body and deliberately spent far too long washing his groin. I forced myself to stop staring long enough to grab the shower gel and squeeze some out, but rather than wash myself, I used it to soap his shoulders and upper arms, then his armpits when he lifted his shoulders and tucked his right arm behind his head. His eyes were fixed on my face as I ran my hands up and down his sides and then paused with them resting on his hips.

"Turn around, I'll do your back."

He didn't move for a moment and then suddenly he turned away and leaned against the wall, forehead resting on his arm. I poured more shower gel into my hand and angled the spray of water away from us before I began to wash his back, massaging the taut muscles firmly until he relaxed under my touch. I worked my way slowly down to his butt, stroking both hands over the smooth globes and cautiously dipping my fingers between his legs. He tensed slightly and shivered, but otherwise didn't move and I continued downward, soaping up his thighs both back and front before I stepped away and turned the shower head back to rinse him down.

Before I could pick up the shower gel again, Alex had the bottle in his hand and was facing me, squeezing some out onto my chest. Happy to let him wash me, I stood still with my eyes half closed, watching his hand move in lazy circles over my pecs and abs, teasingly avoiding my cock and moving to my hips and thighs instead, then caressing my balls. My breath hitched and I clenched my fists to stop myself grabbing at him. I was fully erect and aching, longing for him to just wrap his hand around me and jerk me off, but at the same time I could imagine us in my bed together, taking our time touching and exploring. I wanted him in my mouth.

I turned around obligingly when he had finished washing my front, resting my head on my arms against the wall the same way he had done, trembling slightly under his touch and resisting the urge to grab my cock. My mind was racing, running through everything that had happened since I found him half frozen on my balcony, bruised and bleeding, asking me to kill him rather than put him through anything else. I had managed to develop some kind of feeling for him in a short space of time, despite the fact that nothing had happened until the last few minutes. I spun away from the wall, knocking his hand away from me and slid my arms around him, pulling him tight against my body. He gasped in surprise, his hand clutching at my shoulder.

"Come to bed with me," I said, my voice deep and husky with desire.

"Walt..."

"I don't want to fuck you, I just want to...take my time touching you, with my hands...my mouth. I want to taste you...make you cum." I couldn't ever remember talking to anyone like that, not even Sharon. I wasn't very vocal when it came to sex, but it seemed important that I let him know I wanted him and at the same time reassure him that I wouldn't overstep the mark, despite my longing to spread him open and sink my cock into his tight ass.

"God, Walter," he muttered and reached up to turn off the water. I shoved open the door and let him go, grabbing for a towel as I stepped out onto the mat. I passed it to him and picked up another to dry myself, scrubbing myself briskly in my impatience. I completed the task haphazardly, my eyes repeatedly sliding to Alex as he dried himself efficiently one-handed. When he was done I walked out of the room and headed for my bedroom, knowing he was following me just by the tingling feeling on the back of my neck.

I lay down in the middle of the bed and waited for Alex to join me. He halted a couple of feet away and for a moment I wondered if he was going to change his mind. He looked uncertain although his erection hadn't wavered, but then he seemed to shake himself and he moved forward, lowering himself onto the bed next to me. I had purposefully taken the right side so that he could lay facing me without trapping his arm under him and he stretched out, his stump under his head and his hand resting on the mattress between us. His eyes studied my face, his expression solemn and I realised this was probably a big deal for him - the first time anything had happened since he lost his arm and so close to someone forcing themselves on him.

"You can trust me," I said softly, wanting to make certain he knew it. He grinned suddenly, a flash of white teeth as his green eyes lightened and twinkled.

"Yeah, I know."


	6. Chapter 6 - Seventy-Two Hours

******Part 6 - Seventy-Two Hours**

It was Alex who made the first move, lifting his hand to my neck and sliding it around to the back of my head to pull me into a kiss. I crushed his lips with my own and dipped my tongue into his mouth, both of us moaning as we tasted each other again. Our bodies edged closer together and my cock bumped against his, drawing a deeper groan from him. Reluctantly I pulled away again and rolled him onto his back, pressing him down firmly despite the small amount of resistance he gave. He watched me cautiously through half-closed eyes and despite saying he trusted me, he felt tense. I remained at his side, lowering my head to nibble at his warm skin. My lips and teeth made their way along his collarbone to his throat where I circled my tongue in the hollow there. He shivered and sighed and as I made my way south over firm pecs, the tension went out of him.

I stroked my hand over silky skin, exploring his ribcage while my lips found a nipple, sucking it into my mouth and biting gently until it stiffened, then biting harder when Alex hissed approval. He squirmed beneath me, his cock twitching on his belly and I made my way over to the other small nub, giving it the same treatment as the first and then soothing the bite with my tongue. His hand came to rest on my neck and he muttered something in Russian which could have been a curse. I caught his wrist and pulled his hand off, pinning it the mattress above his head and then stroking lightly along his upper arm to his armpit. To my surprise he left his arm where I placed it and I returned to what I had been doing, my hand now tracing the firm pairs of abs while the wet tip of his erection repeatedly nudged my wrist, causing him to groan and buck his hips up in an effort to gain friction. Again my lips followed my fingers and I kissed and licked my way down over his belly, tasting a drop of precum which had landed there and feeling a wet smear on my cheek as his cock pushed against me, desperate for contact.

"Fuck...Walter, please..." he begged. He was breathing hard and trembling all over. I chuckled quietly as I continued to ignore his throbbing organ and kissed my way along the jut of one hip while my hand gripped the other, preventing him from thrusting upward. He groaned in frustration, thighs tense and quivering, and I watched another bead of precum ooze from him and drip onto the narrow line of hair between groin and navel. I couldn't wait to taste him, but I was determined to prolong it as long as possible. I rolled onto my knees and moved down the bed a little, my lips still teasing Alex's skin although I lifted my eyes enough to glimpse his face as I pried his thighs apart. I expected him to resist, but he seemed too far gone to care, or completely trusting, as he spread his legs wider. I kneeled between them and stroked my hands slowly up and down over the hard muscles, thumbs running along the sensitive skin inside until they reached his groin. His sack pulled up tighter against his body and his cock rose above his belly, rigid and throbbing. I bent lower again, licking and kissing one thigh, tracing small circles on his skin until my nose brushed his balls and he groaned loudly, his hips lifting up off the mattress.

"Christ Almighty, you're gonna make me cum without even touching me!" he growled.

"Control yourself," I told him. "Don't waste it. I want you to cum in my mouth."

"Fuck!"

I continued to torment him for another minute or two, pushing my tongue against the wrinkled skin and drawing one ball into my mouth, rolling it around and then letting it pop free before I gave the other the same treatment. A mixture of Russian and English curses hissed out of Alex's mouth in between gasps and groans and then finally I put him out of his misery, my eyes raised again to see his face. I wrapped my right hand firmly around his shaft and lifted it, licking slowly around the crown and then drawing it between my lips to capture the leaking precum. He tasted musky and salty and sour and warm and I groaned around his tip, immediately hearing a matching groan come from him.

"God, Walter, I'm not gonna last," he panted.

I released him from my mouth. "Want me to stop for a minute?" I teased.

"Fuck, no!"

I paused just long enough to make him writhe with impatience, pushing up in an attempt to reach my mouth and then I gave him what he wanted. He was hot and hard on my tongue as I sucked him into my mouth, pressing my tongue against the silky skin and ducking lower to take half of his length in. He was long and thick and my hand felt just right gripping him as I followed the movement of my lips up and down, applying just enough pressure to make him beg for more. I cupped his balls in the other hand, squeezing gently and occasionally letting the tips of my fingers move back to apply light pressure to his perineum although I took care not to reach his hole. He writhed helplessly beneath me, trembling and sweating, the base of his cock already throbbing in my hand as he drew closer to losing control.

I could feel my own cock hanging full and heavy beneath my belly as I crouched between Alex's legs and I knew it wouldn't take much to push me over the edge too. I longed for some friction and considered changing my position to lie flat so that I could rub myself against the mattress, but he was so close that I just carried on, humming around the mouthful and causing him to groan and swear again from the vibration. I tightened my grip, pushed more firmly against the ridge behind his balls and pulled my mouth off to hold only the head of his cock, sucking harder and swirling my tongue around. I felt him start to cum - the hard throb in the palm of my hand a second before he flooded my mouth with warm saltiness in several long spurts. The fact that we had already cum in the bathroom didn't seem to have made much difference to him and I swallowed twice, then continued to suck gently for a few seconds until he reached down to push at my head.

"Fuck...stop.._.____ohooiet__,_" he gasped.

Grinning, I released him and sat up, resting both hands on his thighs. "What did you say?"

"Uh...holy fuck." He rubbed his hand over his face and then let it fall back onto the bed beside him. "No one's ever touched me like that," he said and then bit his lip as if he hadn't meant to say it. I climbed over his leg and stretched out beside him again, my erection pressing against his thigh and leaking onto his skin. I laid my hand on his chest, feeling the rapid tattoo of his heart under my palm. He glanced up at me from beneath long lashes and licked his lips. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Touching you?"

"Uh huh."

"Because you're fucking sexy, Alex, and I couldn't keep my hands off any longer," I blurted. I wasn't usually so honest about my feelings or motives and I felt my face flush a little. He looked surprised, but then relaxed his face and closed his eyes.

"Give me a minute...I want to do the same for you."

My cock throbbed in response to his words and I resisted the urge to stroke it while I waited for him to come down from his high and get his breath. I could still feel his heartbeat, fast and uneven, my own keeping time with it. It shocked me how much I wanted him and I tried not to think too much about it. In just seventy-two hours we would be going our separate ways.

A few minutes passed with only the sound of our breathing breaking the silence and then Alex sat up suddenly, dislodging my hand. He slid down the bed until his head was level with my groin and in one quick movement, the length of my cock was engulfed in the wet heat of his mouth, the tip pushing against the back of his throat.

"Fuck!" I gasped. Alex chuckled around me, his throat vibrating and teeth lightly scraping sensitive skin. I swore again and clenched my fists, knowing I was going to cum shamefully quickly - again. I tried to breathe slow and deep, willing myself to keep control as Alex's mouth worked me mercilessly, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked, tongue applying constant pressure, his hand caressing my balls and tugging on them almost, but not quite to the point of pain. I was desperate to thrust into him and I bucked my hips gently, trying not to go too hard or too deep and make him gag, but it didn't seem to concern him. His hand left my sack and slid around to my ass instead, squeezing and pressing, encouraging me to fuck his mouth. I did just that, pushing myself harder against his face, guessing he would let me know if he wanted me to stop. His fingers dug into my hip, his mouth and throat relaxed enough for me to move as it suited me and I couldn't help imagining that I had him pinned beneath me while I drove myself into his ass instead. I gave up trying to keep control and increased the pace of my thrusts, my orgasm building more slowly than before, although not by much. I clutched the back of Alex's head, groaning loudly as my balls tightened and heat flooded through me, my cock jerking in his mouth and shooting my load into his throat. I felt him swallow around me and I quickly released him and pulled back. He was breathing hard through his nose, face flushed and eyes half closed. I gripped his arm and urged him back up the bed, then captured his lips in a brief and breathless kiss, tasting myself before I drew away.

"Fuck, Alex, that was amazing."

He smirked and licked his lips. "It's been a while."

"Probably longer for me," I admitted.

"Well, you haven't lost your touch." He leaned closer and tucked his face into my neck, his breath cool on my hot skin. I wrapped my arm around him and held him against me, wondering what the next couple of days had in store for us. More of this, I hoped, although I knew I was going to miss him when I returned to DC and the Bureau. Even an hour ago before we'd touched each other I would have missed him - I'd gotten far to used to having him around.

I opened my eyes a few hours later to find the room dark and Alex still resting in my arms, sleeping peacefully. I stroked my hand gently over his hair and kissed his cheek without even thinking about it and he smiled slightly, but didn't seem to wake. I slid away from him and found a pair of pants to put on, then made my way to the kitchen. I needed another shower, but I had a greater need for food and I took the two fish out of the fridge to begin preparing them. I was in the middle of gutting them when Alex appeared, his prosthetic in place, but otherwise naked.

"Those what you caught earlier?" he asked.

"Yeah, I hope you like fish."

"I'll eat anything within reason." He grinned and dropped his eyes to my crotch, then quickly lifted them to my face again. "Can I do anything?"

"You cook?" I queried.

"Not if I can help it, but I can chop things up."

"There are some potatoes in there..." I indicated a cupboard. "You can peel some if you want."

He set about the task, pinning each potato to the counter with his plastic hand and peeling off thick layers of potato along with the skin, while I continued preparing the fish, tucking slices of lemon and herbs into them and drizzling olive oil over them in the dish. My eyes were constantly drawn to Alex, incongruously helping me prepare dinner without a stitch on. It was a struggle not to keep thinking about how he tasted in my mouth and how his lips and tongue felt on me. I would have been hard in an instant if I wasn't simply too exhausted.

Alex went to take a shower while I finished in the kitchen and when he reappeared, he was wearing the jeans he'd had on when I found him on my balcony. I showered and dressed and when the food was ready, we ate at the breakfast bar. By the time Alex had cleared his plate, he looked as if he were struggling to stay awake and I realised our activities earlier were the most physical thing he'd done since he recovered from the pneumonia. After making an effort to help clear up the kitchen, he went back to bed and within minutes I heard soft snores coming through the open door.

I stayed up a while, watching TV and thinking about the events of the day. I was tired too, but I had a slight dilemma - should I sleep with Alex or go back to the guest room? I had no intention of waking him up to ask and I hovered uncertainly in the doorway, watching him sleep, curled up on one side facing the empty half of the bed where I had lain earlier.

"Fuck it," I muttered. If he woke up and didn't like me being there it was too bad, although when I thought about the way he reacted to me, I couldn't imagine he would push me away. I stripped off, put my glasses on the nightstand and slid carefully into the vacant side of the bed, lying stiffly on my back and trying to breathe evenly while my heart hammered in my chest and my stomach fluttered with nerves. Forty-three years old and I was acting like a nervous kid with his first lover. I found it almost impossible to relax, but eventually exhaustion took over and I dozed off, still in the same position with a gap of more than a foot between me and him.

The first thing I became aware of when I stirred was that it was light the other side of my eyelids and very quickly after that I registered the weight on my chest that seemed to be pinning me to the bed. I opened one eye and then the other, immediately taking in Alex's dark head resting just below my chin, his arm draped across my chest and his erection crushed against my hip. He was fast asleep and my right arm was trapped beneath him. A grin broke out across my face as I realised that I hadn't moved all night except to stretch my arm out. ___He_had turned to ___me_, whether consciously or in his sleep.

The next thing I registered was the pressing need to take a piss and I moved Alex carefully with my free hand, pushing him off me until he groaned and rolled over, resting his head on his arm. I slid out of the bed and went to the bathroom, took a piss and cleaned my teeth before going back to bed. I climbed back in and after a brief hesitation I edged closer to Alex until my chest touched his back, then slipped an arm around him. He was uncovered to the waist and I lay there just looking at him - the back of his neck and his short-cropped hair, the slightly less muscular shoulder on his left side, the stump of his arm with the horrible scarring. I couldn't imagine the agony he'd felt when whoever it was had done that to him and I automatically tightened my arm around him, pressing my lips against his neck. If things were different, I wouldn't let anyone...

"Walter?" His husky voice startled me and I pushed away the impossible thought in my head.

"Yeah."

He moved a little and the head of his cock bumped my wrist. I lowered my hand and captured it, palming it slowly and rubbing it against his belly until he groaned and squirmed against me. His firm butt grinding against me immediately made me begin to stiffen, my cock naturally finding his crack and nestling into it. I was torn between leaving it there and letting it slide against him, and pulling away in case it was too much for him, but he didn't seem distressed by my contact with his ass. I stayed still and massaged his erection, feeling it grow even harder and begin to leak over my fingers while his breathing quickened, soft groans coming from him at intervals.

I took my hand off and slid away a little, turning him onto his back to free his arm and so that I could kiss him. His green eyes met mine and I brought our lips together, a gentle caress as I moved my body over his, wedging one knee between his, but leaving the other alongside. I held the weight of my upper body off him with my forearm laid beside him on the mattress, my other hand between us, wrapped around his cock and my own so that I could rub them together. Alex groaned and slipped his arm around my back, holding onto me as he thrust up into my hand. Leaking precum from both of us gave enough lubrication for us to slide together and I tightened my grip, enjoying the feel of his cock against mine. I captured his lips in another deeper kiss, plunging my tongue into his mouth and finding his just as eager to explore. Our teeth bumped, lips crushed as we tasted each other, groaning into each other's mouths while my hand moved faster. I drew my head back again, struggling to breathe and watched Alex's eyelids lift slightly, giving me a glimpse of dark green barely visible around blown pupils before he closed them again.

"Fuck, I'm close," I panted.

Alex moved under me, pushing his leg against my knee until I lifted it so that he could spread his thighs wider, bringing both of mine between his. Then his hand left my back and reached down, cupping my balls and squeezing gently while a fingertip pushed against the ridge behind them.

"Alex.._.____fuck!"_I uttered and his chuckle dissolved into a groan as I tightened my grip on both of us. A few more pumps and I could feel him throb against me, his orgasm imminent. I quickened the pace of my hand and bucked my hips, grinding against him while I jerked us both vigorously. Heat rushed through me and Alex yelled out something in Russian, ending with my name which in itself sounded like a curse. My hand was warm and wet and I couldn't tell whether it was his cum or mine, or both. I was panting and groaning, my cock pulsing against his and I stilled my hand, relaxing my grip as both cocks softened a little.

"Holy shit," I muttered, bringing my hand out from between us and resting it on the mattress, cum dripping from it onto the sheet. I was going to have to change the bed again, I thought in amusement. I let my weight sink down slowly onto him, my chest heaving with the effort to breathe. His arm came around me again and we lay there for several minutes until I realised we were going to be stuck together if I didn't move. I lifted myself up slowly and reluctantly and sat back on my heels between Alex's knees. The entire length of my cock was sticky and my pubic hair glued to the base. Alex was in much the same state with the addition of a congealing pool on his belly.

"Shower?" I suggested ruefully and he grinned up at me.

"You gonna clean me up after the mess you made?"

"Yeah, it's all my fault," I teased, grasping his hand to pull him up. Suddenly he was sitting facing me, legs spread out either side of me and our faces inches apart. I went with instinct rather than thought as I cupped his face in my hand and drew him into a kiss. My lips caressed his slowly and thoroughly and he responded warmly for a long moment before drawing back and turning his head away. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing that I was - two more days and we would say goodbye to each other. Maybe he didn't want to get close because of that, or maybe it was just that he'd never been close with anyone. I decided I should probably take a leaf out of his book and stop thinking the impossible. All we had was seventy-two hours from when we started this and then we would be saying goodbye - forever.

We showered together, but this time it didn't lead to anything more. We shared, but washed ourselves rather than each other, then dried off and got dressed, Alex wearing his own jeans without underwear and one of my shirts, his prosthetic in place under it. We ate breakfast and he expressed a desire to get out for some air, so later I dug out one of my older hiking jackets, spare gloves and a hat and we set out to take a walk. We ambled slowly, trudging over the wet ground in between patches of lingering snow, not talking much, but enjoying the crisp fresh air. It made Alex cough a little, but not to the extent where he wheezed or struggled to breathe. He was really better and I was glad, but I realised part of me wished that somehow he would have needed me a little longer so that I could delay my return to DC.

By the time we got back to the cabin, Alex was exhausted. It seemed that his body could handle sex, but not hiking just yet. He collapsed onto the sofa and within minutes he was sleeping soundly. I lifted his head carefully and slid a cushion under it, then after arguing with myself for a while I sat down and lifted up the cushion, placing it in my lap instead while I read a book. Alex slept on, stirring once to turn over so that his face rested against my stomach. I put the book down briefly and unfastened his shirt, carefully removing the prosthetic and laying it aside. He had said it was uncomfortable to sleep with and he'd just spent the past two hours with it trapped beneath his body. He eventually woke late in the afternoon and sat up slowly, seeming a little disoriented.

"Where's my arm?"

I pointed to the table in front of us. "I took it off - you said you don't like sleeping with it on."

"Yeah...thanks." He frowned and rubbed his hand over his face. "Fuck, I've been asleep for hours. Sorry."

"It's okay. You're still a bit weak from being sick."

"I guess. What day is it?"

"Friday."

"When are you going back to DC?"

"Sunday."

He nodded and glanced at me. "Bet you can't wait to see Mulder."

I snorted at this comment and Alex grinned. The pair had despised each other. I could remember the day when Alex was assigned to work with him and Mulder had been spitting feathers. When Alex turned out to be a traitor, every time they crossed paths, Mulder had taken the opportunity to kick the shit out of Alex. How he'd managed it, I couldn't quite work out. Alex had a lot more muscle that the FBI agent and could certainly fight, but Mulder's hatred had no doubt made him more determined.

"Imagine what he'd say if he could have seen us earlier," Alex said, tongue in cheek.

"God, don't," I grimaced. "I'm going be thinking that now, when I see him."

Alex laughed aloud and relaxed at the other end of the sofa, leaning against the arm and stretching his legs out so that his feet rested on my lap, where his head had been.

"Where will you go?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I have to go back to DC to get my...stuff. Then...I haven't really decided."

"Have you got enough money?"

"For now."

"Are you sure you should be going back there? What if you're seen?"

"I can be invisible when I want to be." He frowned slightly. "I don't exactly have a choice."

I licked my lips and considered whether I was really going to offer to do the most stupid thing I'd ever done in my life - more stupid even than falling for...falling into bed with him. I felt my face colour slightly and scowled.

"I could get the things from the safety deposit for you," I blurted out before I could change my mind.

"You don't have to do that, Walter."

"I know that, but it'd be easier, wouldn't it? For you."

"Undoubtedly, but I can't expect you to compromise yourself for me."

"I've already done that, don't you think?"

He sighed heavily and pondered for a moment, his eyes fixed on my face. "What if ___you _get seen?"

"What if I do? I have a couple of safety deposit boxes of my own. I don't advertise where they are. I could be getting my own things."

"First National," Alex said and I nodded in relief.

"That's one of those I use. So?"

"You might not be so happy about it when you see what's in there."

"Surprise me," I told him a touch warily.

"Money, weapons, a bunch of fake passports, stuff like that."

"Kind of what I expected then."

"Okay. If it really doesn't bother you to do this..."

"You trust me?"

"Yes," he said immediately.

"Even with this?"

"What am I gonna do while you're getting my stuff? Stay here?" he asked. "You're going to have trouble explaining why I'm here, right?"

I must have looked horrified by this, because he laughed suddenly.

"I'm joking, Walter. I trust you. Hell, I have enough reason to. You were supposed to kill me if I wasn't already dead when you found me. You helped me and even spent most of your vacation taking care of me. I owe you more than I have a hope of repaying."

"Is that why you're...you know?" I asked before I could stop myself.

His face hardened. "You mean sex?" He pushed himself to his feet suddenly. "I'm doing that because I want to."

"Fuck, Walter," I muttered as he stalked out of the room. "What the hell did you say that for?" I got up quickly and followed him, finding him in the kitchen leaning against the sink. "Alex, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"No?"

"No." I went to him and rested my hands on his waist, realising that he wasn't angry, only hurt and that surprised me. "I'm sorry," I repeated. "I just wish things were different, that's all."

"Different how?"

"I don't know. Maybe I've been thinking that if we weren't who we are, this wouldn't just be seventy-two hours."


	7. Chapter 7 - Temporary Goodbye

******Part 7 - Temporary Goodbye**

"Don't say things like that!" Alex shoved me away from him and moved to the door. I turned around and leaned against the sink the same way he had been doing.

"Then what do you want me to say?"

"Just...nothing. There's no point. I don't do relationships and nor do you...not with people like me, anyway."

I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms. "Fine. Like you said, there's no point anyway. After next weekend when I come back with your stuff, that'll be it. We'll never see each other again."

He nodded curtly and walked out. I stayed where I was, listening to him stomp around in the bedroom and then the sound of the bed-springs creaking in protest as he threw himself onto it. I sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over my face. He was right. What the hell was I doing, investing so much into this? Even if things had been different - if he was still an FBI agent or I wasn't - we didn't fit. I'd never been with anyone like him and when I thought about the type of men I liked, they were completely different. Maybe that was the reason I liked him so much - because I couldn't have him.

I stayed up a while longer and again I hesitated before deciding on which room to sleep in. I didn't want to make things harder or end up fighting with him, but at the same time the masochistic part of me wanted to make the most of the time we had left. I went into the main bedroom, shed my clothes in the darkness and slid into the bed. Alex was lying on his back pretending to be asleep, his prosthetic still in place and resting on top of the covers. His breathing hitched slightly when I moved closer and then evened out as if he were forcing himself to stay still. I grinned and touched his shoulder, just above the cuff of the prosthetic.

"Aren't you going to take this off?"

His shoulder shrugged under my hand and I began to unfasten the securing straps myself, then pulled the arm free and leaned over him to put it on the bedside table. He didn't move and I returned to my position beside him, resting there until eventually he turned over to face me and pressed close. Neither of us spoke, but when I wrapped both arms around him, he held onto me in return and after a while, we slept.

When I woke it was daylight and Alex was still in my arms. I had rolled onto my back in my sleep and he was draped over my chest, one leg hooked over me and his erection digging into my hip. My own quivered against my stomach and I had to force myself to disentangle myself from him to go to the bathroom. I cleaned my teeth while I waited for my cock to subside enough to take a piss and while I was doing that, Alex appeared. His eyes were half closed, still sleepy, but his cock stood rigid in front of him while he picked up a toothbrush and freshened up his mouth. When he finished, we switched places. I washed my hands and then went back to bed, guessing he would join me when he was done. It was Saturday and in twenty-four hours I would be heading back to DC. The only consolation was that it wouldn't be goodbye just yet - I would be back Friday night at least temporarily.

Alex was still hard when he came back to bed. He slid in next to me, pushing the covers low enough for me to watch as he stroked his hand slowly up and down his shaft. My own stiffened again rapidly as I watched him masturbate, occasionally releasing his cock to cup and squeeze his balls, then gripping it again, rubbing his thumb over the tip to collect precum and spreading it down his length.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, my hand drifting down my body to give myself the same treatment. Alex grinned and continued, lifting his hips slightly to fuck his fist, lips parted as he panted softly. I was torn between wanting to watch him finish and wanting to be the one who made him cum. I stayed where I was, idly stroking myself as he jerked off furiously, his hand flying over his cock until he came in thick spurts. When he was done, he scooped up most of the mess and then reached for me. I took my hand off, watching as his fist curled around my erection and spread his fluid over it, using it to lubricate the slide of his hand.

"Fuck," I groaned again, my mouth seeming incapable of forming any other words. I was so close already, just from watching him cum all over himself and it took only a couple of minutes of vigorous pumping for him to bring me to the finish. When he released me, he wiped his hand on the sheet and sat up suddenly, straddling me and resting his forearm beside my head. I slid my arms around him, immediately imagining us in this position in another time - him crouching above me, my cock in his ass. My spent dick twitched slightly between his thighs and he grinned.

"Shower?"

"In a minute," I panted.

"I need to go into Williamsport today, is that okay?"

"Sure. I'll...uh...drive you there later," I said at once. "What do you need?"

"Clothes. If you don't mind...uh...lending me some money until next week? I'm gonna need to be ready to take off when you come back with my stuff."

"No problem."

"Maybe some things I can throw in the microwave too," he smirked. "I don't particularly want to spend the week catching my own dinner."

I chuckled and ran my hands up and down his back. Things were good again - light-hearted and relaxed. I told myself not to spoil it by letting shit come out of my mouth that didn't - couldn't - mean anything. I lifted my head and pressed a hard kiss onto his mouth, then rolled him off me and sat up.

We showered together, then dressed and ate breakfast. I liked seeing Alex wearing my clothes, even though they were too big for him and therefore made him look smaller than he was. I was keen to see him in things that fit properly though - the one pair of jeans he had clung to him like a second skin.

We drove into Williamsport just before midday and spent a couple hours shopping. There weren't too many clothes stores to choose from in the small town, but Alex picked up two pairs of jeans, some winter hiking pants, several shirts and sweaters, an outdoor coat, socks, gloves, a hat and another pair of boots along with a holdall to carry everything in. My credit card came out on several occasions and Alex put all the receipts together in his pocket in order to repay me the correct amount the following week. I bought us a late lunch in an Italian restaurant and as I sat across the table from him, twirling spaghetti on my fork, I couldn't help wondering what it would be like if we were really together. I could imagine us on a day out somewhere, exploring a new town, having a meal like this, going home together afterward and falling into bed. I wanted him so much - I couldn't help myself - and I hated the fact that it was impossible. I only realised I'd fallen into a morose silence on the drive back to the cabin, when Alex reached out and gave my thigh a squeeze.

"What's with you?"

"What? Nothing," I muttered.

"Either you're pissed or you're upset," he said. It unnerved me a little, that he knew me that well already.

"Don't ask me, okay? It's nothing." I didn't want to fight with him again, however briefly, and I glanced at him for a second, catching his eye before he nodded and squeezed my leg more firmly. We didn't talk for the rest of the journey back to the cabin, but when we arrived, things became more relaxed again. Alex went to change into some of the new clothes - a pair of black jeans that looked as if he'd painted them onto his body and a dark green sweater that matched his eyes.

"Damn you," I said under my breath, unable to take my eyes off him. The jeans clung snugly to his firm thighs and butt, the crotch only emphasising the fact that he was about half hard and wearing no underwear as usual.

"What did I do?" he asked innocently.

"I should have picked your clothes out for you," I growled. "Loose ones."

Alex chuckled. "That wouldn't have been so much fun."

"But you might have managed to keep them on longer." I grabbed him and jerked him against me, reaching down to rub my thumb over the head of his cock through the tight fabric. "You're not wearing underwear."

"When have you ever known me to do that? I don't understand this obsession with making your dick less accessible." Smirking, he pushed my hand away and popped a few buttons free. Immediately his erection slid out and bumped against my thigh.

"Fuck, Alex," I groaned. He laughed again and I silenced him with my mouth, crushing his lips with mine and thrusting my tongue in urgently. He moaned and clutched at me, his cock nudging against mine where it remained trapped inside jeans and boxer briefs. I guessed he had a point, I thought, as I unzipped and wrestled it free from the tight jersey fabric. I stroked us together, both gripped loosely in one hand until I simply had to have him in my mouth. Then I broke the kiss and backed up, dropping to my knees and swallowing his length, hands dragging the tight new jeans down around his thighs. I squeezed the firm globes of his ass, encouraging him to push deeper into my throat.

"Christ...Walt...so close..." he panted. His hand flailed around for a moment and then came to rest on the back of my head, his hips jerking erratically as he fucked my mouth, thighs trembling. I could taste precum and the warm muskiness that was Alex and I drew him even deeper, cupping his balls with one hand and tugging gently, pressing the fingers of my other hand into his crack to brush over his hole. He didn't so much as stiffen this time, but squirmed and gyrated as if encouraging me to touch him. I longed to push just one finger into his tight heat, but I held back, stroking the puckered flesh instead, reluctant to spoil things. If only we had longer...if this wasn't so temporary I could show him that sex could be good if it was with someone who took the time to make him enjoy it.

Once again, I shoved my thoughts aside as I felt his cock begin to pulse in my mouth. I pulled off a few inches as he came, swallowing every drop and continuing to suck gently until he begged me to stop, laughing and shaking and pushing at my head.

"Take your pants off," he said breathlessly.

I got to my feet and did so, removing both jeans and boxers and then lowering myself onto the couch. Alex had pulled his jeans back up but left them unfastened and now he crouched over me, his mouth around my cock and his hand playing with my balls. It didn't take me much longer than it had taken him and when he straightened up, licking his lips, I just lay there, chest heaving, completely drained.

That evening we ate some of Alex's microwave dinners, neither of us caring to actually prepare anything. I would at least have liked some fresh vegetables with mine, but even a little chopping and slicing seemed too much like hard work so instead I settled for a slightly tasteless beef stew. We sprawled on the couch afterward, watching TV until exhaustion drove Alex to bed, me not far behind him. I barely even had the energy to remember that this was the last night before I went back to DC.

When I woke in the morning I was alone. I had imagined I would open my eyes to find Alex sprawling across my chest, hard and ready as usual, but he was gone and my morning erection was only at half mast. I glanced at the bedside table and noticed his prosthetic was missing too and for a moment I panicked that he had simply taken off. Then I heard sounds in the kitchen - the kettle boiling and the scraping sound of a knife on toast along with the acrid smell of burning. Grinning, I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs. I found Alex scraping blackened crumbs into the sink, a scowl on his face. He was wearing the new black jeans, but nothing else, hair wet from the shower and I wondered how I hadn't woken up and heard him before now.

"What are you doing?"

"The fucking toaster's broken," he grumbled.

"It wasn't broken yesterday. You just left it on too long." I glanced at the setting which was as high as it would go. "Seven minutes?"

He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "I told you I don't cook. I'd burn water if it was possible." He spread a thick layer of peanut butter onto the burnt offering and crammed some into his mouth, brow wrinkling.

"How you managed to survive this long without getting food poisoning beats me," I said.

"Yeah, I spend most of my time trying to avoid people who want to kill me and then die from my own attempts at cooking. I should just stick with you," he mumbled around the toast. I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the remark. If I'd said something like that, he probably would have snapped at me.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said. "You can make me some coffee if you like, but I'll fix the toast myself." I heard muffled laughter as I headed into the bathroom.

I showered, shaved and dressed, then spent a few minutes gathering together the things I needed to take back to DC. Alex was still in the kitchen making another attempt at preparing some more edible toast and I drank my coffee and watched in silence, wondering what time I should leave. The longer I dragged it out, the more awkward things would get so I decided I should probably just eat my breakfast and go.

Alex went to finish dressing while I ate and he returned wearing a black shirt he had picked out the day before. He looked sombre in all black clothes with his dark hair and he seemed to have as little to say as I did myself.

I wondered how to say goodbye. What I wanted to do was crush him in my arms and kiss him until we were both breathless, but it would be stupid. We couldn't be anything to each other and even if we were, I was coming back in five days so there was no need for a desperate goodbye. I washed my plate without a word and went to collect keys, wallet, phone, my bag and my coat and boots. Alex watched in silence from the kitchen doorway.

"Do you need me to leave some money here?" I offered. "In case...?"

"Thanks, but I won't need it. I don't plan on going anywhere," he said.

"You know you can call if you...uh...think of anything else you want me to pick up for you," I told him. "The number for my condo is saved in the phone here. The power's back up so I disconnected the generator." I remembered I had already told him that when I'd done it a couple of days before.

He nodded and gave me a half smile.

"So...I'll...uh...I'll be back late Friday evening."

"Walter..." He moved toward me suddenly. "Thanks. For everything. You didn't have to do any of this. I haven't exactly done anything to deserve it."

"It's fine. I...uh...I better get moving. It's a long drive."

"Yeah. Sure." He backed away. "I guess I'll see you Friday then."

I checked once more that I had everything I needed, picked up my bag and took a step in the direction of the door. Then I stopped and turned to him again. It wasn't going to help things, but I had to at least give him some small gesture. I brushed my lips over his and then pressed them more firmly against his cheek. I saw him smile a second before I walked away and this time I kept going. I let myself out of the cabin, strode to the car and opened the trunk to throw my bag inside. Another few seconds and I was behind the wheel, shifting into gear, letting the car move forward slowly on the icy ground. It had been a cold night and the dampness had frozen solid, but there had been no more snow. I took one quick look in the rear view, trying to tell myself that it didn't mean anything that Alex was watching me from the kitchen window. Then the car crept around a bend and I concentrated on the rough track ahead of me.

The roads were quiet on the drive home. I had plenty of time to think and at first I tried distracting myself with music, but it didn't help and I turned the radio off. I couldn't stop thinking about Alex. I went over and over in my head everything that had happened since I found him on my balcony - smuggling him out of the condo wrapped in the rug, pretending to dispose of his body, caring for him when he got sick, kissing, touching, laughing together. I felt far too much for him and I knew I wasn't mistaken when I thought there were feelings on his side too. Again I found myself imagining us together in a different time where the FBI didn't exist and he hadn't done the things he had done that would get him killed if he were caught. Wishful thinking took me the rest of the way home and by the time I let myself into the condo, I was dejected and missing him. I didn't even want to think about how I would feel this time next week, when I would say goodbye to him forever.

I spent the next hour carrying out a quick scan and discovering two bugs had been planted in my absence, then tidying and unpacking before I poured myself a generous measure of Scotch and sat on the couch in silence. What was he doing, I wondered? Was he thinking about me? Did he miss me?

"Fuck it," I muttered. I was behaving like a jerk, wanting something I couldn't have. I got up and went to check my answer machine, having ignored the blinking light so far since I got in. There were two messages, one from Mulder about a case he was working on and the other a sales call. I deleted both and then called Scully to let her know I was back.

"How's your friend, Sir?" she asked at once.

"Better, thanks."

"Is he with you?"

"No, he's gone home," I lied.

"Okay. Well, that's good."

I changed the subject, asking her about the case Mulder had reported, another one of their strange investigations that defied normal reporting procedures. I frowned and pinched the bridge of my nose as I listened with only half of my attention. I wasn't looking forward to returning to the Bureau the next day - not at all.

I didn't sleep well that night. I'd spent the rest of the day roaming around the apartment, trying to watch TV, half-heartedly making an attempt at eating dinner and then I tossed and turned in bed, missing the hard, warm body against mine and the sexy scent of Alex in my nostrils. I woke with a headache and got ready for work automatically, almost having to force myself to leave the apartment and go down to my car. I was going back to reality and I wondered whether I had ever actually enjoyed this life - living alone, working my way through mountains of paperwork and politics and Mulder's shit every day.

By the time I had exchanged pleasantries with Kimberly, greeted a few other agents and made my way into my office, my headache had increased dramatically and I poured myself some water and swallowed a couple of aspirin, eyeing the mountain of files on my desk dispassionately. For the first time in twenty years I wondered if it was too late to do something else with my life. Was I too young to retire? Too old to change career? Was I dreaming? I sat down with a sigh and picked up the first file, then paused to check my calendar. A meeting at ten and another at one-thirty - welcome back, Walter.

The day dragged. I stayed late to finish the paperwork that had been delayed by the meetings and finally got ready to leave at seven. Kimberly was long gone and the outer office was deserted. My cellphone rang in my pocket and I answered it absently as I headed out to the car. The only relief of that day was that Mulder and Scully were out of town working on their case, having rushed off to investigate before I arrived. I expected the call to be from one of them, but when I heard Cancerman's voice, I stiffened and gripped the phone tighter.

"Mr Skinner. How did you enjoy your vacation?"

"What do you want?" I answered.

"I'm sure you know. I wanted to check that our little problem has been dealt with."

"You know it was. One of your goons followed me to the river," I said through my teeth. "Didn't even try to stay out of sight."

"Ahh. Well, then. I just wanted to make sure he was doing his job properly. I would hate for you to have to dispose of another one."

"Is that all?" I asked, irritated. I hated the man with a passion, not least because he'd almost caused Alex to die.

"That's all. Enjoy your evening, Mr Skinner."

The line went dead and I stomped into the elevator, travelled down to the garage and went to my car.

The rest of the week passed in much the same way - slowly and irritatingly. Mulder and Scully returned Wednesday and I listened to Mulder with only half an ear as he regaled me with a story of a real-life Frankenstein's monster. By the time Friday came, I was both tense and eager to finish up and get on the road. I had spent half the week talking myself out of letting anything further happen with Alex and the other half imagining reaching the cabin, grabbing him in my arms and ripping his clothes from his body as we stumbled desperately into the bedroom. I was confused, anxious and excited and also furious with myself for not being able to control my feelings. In just a couple more days he would be gone from my life forever and I was only making things more difficult for myself.

I left my office in the middle of the day to go to the bank, requested access to my safety deposit box and then when I was left alone in the room, I unlocked Alex's box with the key he had given me. Inside was a canvas bag and I took it without looking inside, stowed it in the trunk of my car and then worried about it for the rest of the afternoon. If I was caught with it in my possession, I'd probably be locked up faster than I could say his name.

I managed to finish up early, much to my relief, and escaped just after four-thirty. I grunted pleasantries at those who told me to enjoy my weekend and didn't actually relax until I'd driven home, taken the bag from the trunk and made it up to my apartment. It was only then that I looked inside. I'd told myself I wouldn't, but I couldn't help myself and I knew he would expect it. He'd warned me what was in there.

I emptied out the contents and discovered exactly what he'd described. There were two guns - a Sig Sauer similar to my own and a Russian MP-443. In addition there was a knife in a leather sheath and a quantity of ammunition for both guns. A plastic bag held a large amount of cash in used bills and I estimated around a hundred grand. Lastly there were several passports - British, Canadian, Russian and German under the names of Stuart Brown, Xavier Tremblay, Alexsandr Apalkov and Walther Neumann respectively. This last one made me grin. Finally I pulled out a US passport which was actually in the name of Alex Krycek. Most of the passports held the same photograph which could have been taken recently while the picture in the last one showed a much younger Alex, probably taken when he was around twenty years old. The date of birth on that one showed him to be twenty-six years old as he had told me, with his birthday being in June. The others varied a year or two either way.

That was everything. I packed the items back into the bag and then took out an overnight bag and filled it with a few things for myself. I showered and dressed in more casual clothes, grabbed a snack and in another thirty minutes I was back in the car, fighting my way through rush hour as I left the city.

When I got clear of DC, traffic was light and I made good time, stopping once for gas and coffee. As I eventually turned off the highway onto the narrow road leading up to the cabins, I peered ahead, looking for lighted windows and eventually glimpsing the faintest glow between the trees. A few minutes later I parked in front of my cabin, removed the two bags from the trunk and walked up to the door. The kitchen window was dark, but a gap in the living room curtains showed the lights in there were on. I opened the door, stepped in and in another second I found myself pinned to the wall, an arm crushing my throat, my glasses slipping down my nose. I dropped the bags at my feet, gasping.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Walter." Alex released me quickly and backed away. "Are you okay?"

I sucked in a breath and pushed my glasses back into place. "Yeah. Forget I was coming?" I queried.

"No, but it's too dark out there to see much. I wanted to be sure it was you. Sorry."

I bent to retrieve the bags again and passed the canvas one to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks. Any problems?"

"No. How have you been?" I asked. It felt as if we were strangers again and I closed the door, shed my coat and boots and walked past him into the living room.

"Good. How's the Bureau?"

"You know...full of red tape and...Mulder."

Alex grinned and sat down, opening up the bag and delving into it. A moment later he held out a wad of bills toward me and I took them without counting. "I'm guessing you looked?" he said.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"I figured you would." He shoved the bag aside. "Do you want some coffee? I boiled the kettle a minute ago."

"Thanks. So where will you go from here?" I asked, following him into the kitchen.

"Uh...Canada initially. I have a house there. I'll lay low for a while and decide what I'm gonna do next."

I watched as he made me coffee. He was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue jeans that clung just as tightly as the black ones had, feet bare. I itched to reach out to him, but it didn't seem as if we were in that place any more. It was probably for the best, but it didn't stop me from being disappointed. I leaned against the counter and took the mug from him when he passed it to me, sipped the coffee and then set it down to cool a little. He was watching me closely, green eyes dark and framed by long lashes. I'd almost forgotten how beautiful his eyes were and I stared into them, wondering what he was thinking. He held my gaze, giving away nothing for a long moment and then suddenly he licked his lips and sank his teeth into the lower one, lashes lowering just enough to break the stare although he continued to watch me through them. He still wanted me - it was obvious even to someone like me who had no clue about body language.

I pushed myself away from the counter and took a single step to close the gap between us, just as he began to move himself. I pulled him against my body, my mouth finding his in an urgent and heated kiss. He responded immediately, arm sliding up and around my neck and his tongue emerging to play with mine as I thrust it into his mouth. I groaned into the kiss, my cock immediately straining upright in my jeans. Alex's answering moan only aroused me further and I slid my hand down to his ass, squeezing and pulling him in tighter until I felt his erection grind against mine, too many layers of fabric separating us. I tore my mouth away from his and took a breath.

"Bedroom," I growled, my voice husky. His lips twitched up at the corners as he met my eyes again.

"You still want me, then?"

"You have no idea."


	8. Chapter 8 - Heat

**Part 8 - Heat**

We barely let go of each other as we moved quickly into the bedroom. The covers were rumpled from Alex sleeping under them the previous night and I reached out to sweep them from the bed and out of the way. Then we began fumbling with each other's clothes, mouths meeting in desperate, messy kisses as we fought with buttons and zippers. Garments scattered around us and I sighed with relief as Alex freed my erection from the restraints of my pants and underwear, stroking it firmly while I struggled to push his impossibly tight jeans down around his thighs. His cock sprang free and bumped his hand, prompting him to capture it too and rub it against mine while I clumsily stepped out of the clothes bunched around my ankles. Finally we were naked except for our socks and I pushed Alex down onto the mattress, quickly shedding mine before I joined him. He raised one leg to remove a sock, giving me an unrestricted view of his sack, tight against his body, the ridge behind it and the puckered skin surrounding his hole.

"Fuck, Alex," I muttered, removing my glasses and setting them aside. As on numerous occasions before, I longed to be preparing him with lubed fingers, lining my dick up and shoving into his tight heat, but I knew that wasn't going to happen. There was nothing to stop me from using my hands and my mouth, however, and I quickly joined him on the bed, settling between his thighs and lowering my weight onto him as our lips connected again. My tongue plunged into his mouth and I felt the hot, wet slide of his as he responded, his arm clutching at my back and his cock throbbing urgently against my own.

I wanted to tell him I'd missed him, that I wanted him, that I longed for more than I could have, but I determinedly swallowed the words and instead put everything I had into giving him pleasure - showing him with my body what I couldn't say.

I pressed my knee between Alex's thighs and he spread them apart, bucking his hips up against me and grinding his cock against mine. He tore his lips from mine, his breath coming in harsh pants in my ear. I thrust myself against him, feeling the hard throb of his cock against my own and grimacing at how close I was already. I slid an arm under him and rolled onto my back, bringing him with me so that he straddled my thighs. He pulled his knees under him and my erection twitched beneath him, nudging his balls. My hands roamed over his back, feeling the dampness of sweat along his spine as he continued to rub himself against me. He squirmed under my touch when I cupped his buttocks and squeezed firmly, spreading them apart and letting my fingertips dip into the crack. God, I wanted to touch him there...taste him. I traced the ridge of his perineum with one finger and he shuddered.

I drew my mouth away from his neck, where I had been nibbling at his skin, and pushed him up a little so that I could look into his face. His pupils were blown, lips parted, his expression lust-filled.

"Turn around," I breathed, taking my hands off him. He slid off me and turned to face my feet, hesitating before swinging one leg over me again and crouching there, one knee either side of my hips. I slithered down the bed, pushing his thighs wider until he knelt directly over my face, his balls swinging against my forehead and his cock quivering just an inch or two out of reach, the tip leaking precum. I raised my head and extended my tongue, licking at the tip and tasting him. He groaned and trembled, lowering himself a little more so that I could reach easier. I wrapped one hand around his erection and guided it to my lips, just as Alex did the same with mine, gripping the shaft firmly and sucking the head into his mouth. He supported his weight on his stump, head ducking low as he drew me deeper. His tongue lapped at me eagerly, lips stretched wide as he took more and more of me in, his nose bumping my balls.

I grunted around him and then released him from my mouth again. I rubbed my hand up and down his length while I turned my attention to his balls, angling my head so that I could tug one into my mouth and suck on it gently. Alex whined around my cock, thighs shaking, and I chuckled, my mouth vibrating around him. I released him and drew the other ball between my lips, licking at the wrinkled skin and feeling it tighten and try to pull up against his body. He let out a strangled groan around my cock and removed his hand from it, cupping my balls instead, squeezing and tugging almost hard enough to be painful. I bucked up into his throat, hoping I wouldn't make him gag, but he merely swallowed the last inch of my length and then began to bob his head up and down, allowing me to keep up the movement and fuck his mouth.

I was still stroking his cock rhythmically, lightly enough to be frustrating rather than pleasurable and I gripped a little tighter as I released his testicle from my mouth. I rested one hand on his butt and moved my head so that I could see the tight, puckered skin just above me. I had to touch it.

"Alex..."

"Mmm." The sound vibrated around the head of my cock and I groaned and wriggled.

"You trust me, right?"

"Uh?" The grunt sounded questioning, but he didn't seem concerned enough to stop what he was doing. He was deep-throating me again, pressing his nose against my balls and swallowing repeatedly, letting his throat muscles squeeze my tip. I put the other hand on his ass, stroking the firm flesh for a moment and then letting my fingertips drift into his crack again. He shivered and his hole clenched. Carefully I brushed my thumb over it and his hips jerked, lifting him a few inches. My cock popped free of his mouth and he let out a shaky groan.

"Walt...what the fuck are you doing?" he panted. I hesitated, hoping I wasn't going to ruin things.

"You know I won't hurt you. I just want to touch...that's all." I pushed my index finger into my mouth to wet it and then gently drew a line from his balls up to his hole, stroking over it briefly and then heading back down. Alex whimpered and lowered himself again, resting his forehead on my hip. I tilted my head back and stretched my tongue out, following the same route that my finger had just done and then cautiously circling his hole while my hands caressed his ass and held him in place.

"Fuck," he muttered. His hand gripped my cock, unmoving, and I could feel hot breath on my skin. I licked at him more firmly, my tongue sweeping back and forth over the puckered skin, making it twitch and Alex's entire body shiver.

"Walter...fuck..." he moaned.

"Feel good?" I pressed my tongue flat against him for a moment and then resumed circling, jabbing the tip at him every so often until he unconsciously began to push himself against my face.

"Uh...yeah..." He sounded surprised and I grinned to myself, pulled my head back and blew gently on the damp flesh.

"You're forgetting something," I reminded him, bucking my hips slightly to push my cock through his fist.

"Sorry." In a second his mouth encompassed me again and I returned one of my own hands to his erection, stroking firmly while I continued licking, eventually covering his hole with my mouth and sucking at the flesh until I felt him relax completely, his body trembling and his mouth vibrating around my cock with muffled groans. If only we had longer. He trusted me and if we had more time, I knew I could have fucked him.

I continued tasting him, savouring his muskiness as I began pressing the tip of my tongue into him, working his cock harder with my hand at the same time. He was leaking precum, his balls now tight against his body and it was obvious he was close. He continued making an attempt at sucking me for a little longer and then gave up, releasing me from his mouth to gasp and pant and stroking me instead. I pushed my tongue deeper, jabbing it in and out just a tiny amount while I increased the pace with my hand, his shaft sliding easily through my fist with the lubrication of precum. I drew my head back and sucked on my finger again for a moment, then gently pressed the tip against him until it slipped into his tight heat. At the same time I angled his cock downwards and licked the wetness from the tip.

"Walter..." His voice was pleading and helpless, his body trembling above me and his hand moving frustratingly slowly and awkwardly on my cock.

"Come for me," I murmured and as I carefully pushed my finger deeper, I took half of his length into my mouth and continued to rub the base. He arched his back, pushing himself into my throat and then rocking, automatically impaling himself further onto my finger while at the same time fucking my mouth. As the tension mounted in him, I realised I was close too, the delight of having him trust me enough to explore with my mouth and hands and finding that he enjoyed it, giving me as much pleasure as his hands and mouth would have if he was still capable of using them. I bucked my hips in time to the movement of my finger inside Alex and his cock in my mouth, pushing my own erection through his fist. His cock pulsed in my hand and his ass clenched around my digit as he came forcefully, flooding my mouth and throat. I gulped rapidly, struggling to breathe through my nose and just as I let him slip from my mouth, I came too, feeling the warm fluid spatter my belly. I carefully withdrew my finger from Alex and he rolled off me, letting go of my cock. He slumped onto the mattress beside me, his head level with my feet. Grinning, I grabbed for some tissues to wipe the mess off my skin and then nudged Alex with my knee.

"Hey...come here."

Slowly he pulled himself up and turned around, snuggling against my side with his head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't give you much."

"It doesn't matter. I wanted to give you something. I didn't even know if you'd let me touch you."

"Why would you want to...do that?"

"I wanted to show you it can feel good if it's...uh...not..."

"Forced on you?"

"Yeah."

"I guess I knew that, or why would anyone do it willingly? I just...couldn't imagine having anything in my ass would feel good." He sighed heavily. "It's kind of a shame we have so little time left. I'd have...let you fuck me."

"Fuck," I muttered and my spent cock twitched between my thighs. I tightened my arm around him and squeezed my eyes shut.

"You do want to..."

"Yeah. But it'd make things even more complicated."

"Why? You get to enjoy something and then you walk away. Simple." He lifted his head from my shoulder and I knew he was staring down at my face. I kept my eyes shut determinedly, but eventually my eyelids lifted of their own accord and I met his deep green gaze.

"It's not simple though, is it? I want more than I can have." I cursed myself as the words tumbled out of my mouth and Alex's brow wrinkled, but he didn't break the eye contact. "Besides..." I went on, averting my own gaze and trying to fumble over my mistake. "...it's not about you letting me do anything. It's not supposed to be like that. It would only happen if you actually wanted it to."

"Maybe I do. Or maybe I would...if we had more time." He lowered his head again and tucked his face into my neck. "I shouldn't have let you get that stuff from DC for me."

"What? Why?" I frowned, confused by the sudden change of subject.

"If I'd gone myself, you wouldn't be here now, making things more complicated."

"I thought you said it was simple."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so good at thinking things through sometimes. My mind's used to keeping me alive or focusing on...some of the things I had to do for Cancerman. I don't do...this." He rolled away from me again suddenly and sat up. "Fuck it, I need to just shut my mouth."

I reached out to grip the stump of his arm and pulled him down again. My heart was racing from the almost-confession that he felt the same way that I did. For the hundredth time I wished that things were different. If only I didn't have to go back. If only I could call the Bureau and say 'I quit, I found something more important.' Was he more important, I asked myself? We barely knew each other, but it didn't stop me wanting him more than I'd wanted anyone in my life, with the exception of Sharon when I'd barely been out of my teens.

"Let's just make the most of it," I murmured into his ear.

"How long have you got?"

"Until midday Sunday."

"Okay."

Neither of us spoke again. Exhaustion from the long day, the endless drive and the activities with Alex quickly crept up on me and I slipped away with his warm body molded to my side, his arm draped across my chest.

When I woke to find daylight seeping through the gap in the drapes, I realised we had both turned in our sleep. I was spooned up against Alex's back, my cock nestling into the crack of his ass and my arms holding him tightly. He stirred slightly, his hand, which was gripping my wrist, squeezing for a moment and then pushing my hand down from his chest until it reached his erection. I grinned and nuzzled his neck.

"Morning."

"Hey." He stretched, his back arching and his butt pushing harder against my groin. My cock throbbed, aching for release. Alex didn't seem inclined to move away from me and I ran my hand up and down his shaft, rubbing my thumb over the tip until he groaned and gyrated, giving me a little more friction. I rocked my hips forward and lazily humped him as I gripped tighter with my hand. He moaned and squirmed, moving with me and thrusting into my fist, grinding his ass against me at the same time. I knew I could cum like that, probably much too quickly as always seemed to be the case with him. He made me feel like a kid again, excited, longing and completely incapable of controlling myself.

"Harder," Alex panted. His hand covered mine briefly, squeezing it to make me tighten my grip. I increased the pace of my pumps at the same time, my fist flying up and down his length, lubricated by the fluid leaking from him. My own cock slid easily up and down his crack, precum easing the way and just like that, we came together, hard, breathless and messy. Alex pushed my hand off, gasping and laughing and I peeled myself away from him reluctantly, my groin and belly as sticky as my hand.

"Fuck, we need a shower," I chuckled, throwing the bed covers back to save them from the worst of it.

"I need a piss," Alex said with a grimace and hauled himself up. I rose too and he walked in front of me to the bathroom, his cock still half hard and swaying in front of him. I turned on the shower and stepped under the hot water while he emptied his bladder and then joined me. We washed each other briskly, trying to be functional rather than sexy, but by the time I had finished soaping up Alex's cock, it was throbbing in my hand and I rinsed him down, dropped to my knees and made him cum in my mouth, gently pushing my finger into him again while he ground himself against my face.

For once, I was completely spent and my own cock barely twitched while Alex fucked my mouth. I finished in the shower and dried off, cleaned my teeth and went to fix some breakfast while Alex completed his bathroom routine.

I cooked bacon, eggs and hash browns and made some strong coffee, trying to put aside the thought that it was already late morning and in twenty-four hours, we would be saying goodbye again, this time for good. I did my best to put it aside in my mind. Reality was looming - the Bureau for me and an anonymous life in hiding for Alex and there was nothing either of us could do about it, except to ignore it for just one more day.

It seemed as if Alex was doing the same thing that I was. As the day went by much too quickly, he seemed light-hearted and relaxed, and surprisingly affectionate, but there was a hint of underlying tension in him that I wondered if he could see in me. Was he dreading Sunday like I was and trying to pretend it wasn't just around the corner?

We went to bed early, before eleven o'clock, eager to get our hands on each other again. I brought the lube out and used it to coat both of our cocks, then gripped them tightly in my fist and brought us off together. I had brought a towel into the bedroom and I used it to clean us up as well as possible. Then we relaxed in the darkness, holding onto each other, not talking. I could hear my own heartbeat thudding rapidly, anxiously, and feel Alex's under my palm keeping time with it. I didn't want to go to sleep and waste the few hours we had left, but my eyelids wouldn't stay up and I reluctantly drifted away, clinging to him in the hopes that he might not be snatched away from me in the morning.

When I woke it was still dark and Alex was having a nightmare. I had thought those were in the past, but now he tossed and turned, his hand flying out and punching me in the shoulder before I could restrain him. I shook him gently as he moaned and muttered, expecting to hear that Russian phrase that I had learned had meant 'don't touch me', but I was surprised when he finally did say something coherent.

_"Walter!"_

"Fuck," I hissed. "Alex, wake up." I shook him again and pulled him closer to me. "Hey! Alex, come on, open your eyes."

His eyes flew open, wide and panicked, and met mine. His hand clutched my shoulder, fingers digging almost painfully into the muscle there, and then he breathed out suddenly and let go.

"Sorry."

"Was it the same dream as before?" I asked, still holding him.

"No." He ducked his head down and pressed his face against my shoulder where his hand had been. "It was nothing."

"It's not nothing when you shout out my name."

"Fuck." Alex pushed himself away from me, breaking free of my arms and turning the other way.

"Don't do that," I grumbled. "Don't pull away. I'm here for you..."

"Only for a few more hours." His voice sounded strangled and it made my chest hurt. I felt too much and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. It was going to kill me to walk away. Again I pushed the thought aside and wrapped myself around him.

"So let's not waste it," I said in his ear.

He stayed where he was, facing away from me, but he relaxed in my arms and looked back over his shoulder, turning his head enough for me to capture his lips with mine. I kept the kiss slow and sensual, but after a moment it was Alex who deepened it, thrusting his tongue into my mouth urgently and pushing my hand lower until it covered his half erect cock. I stroked him teasingly, keeping my fist loose until he groaned in protest and squeezed my hand around himself the way he had the previous day. I broke the kiss and took my hand off him altogether, leaning over him to grab the lube from the nightstand.

"Let me try something."

His brow wrinkled, but he didn't move or speak. He lay still, watching me over his shoulder as I squeezed lube into my hand and reached down to apply it to my own now throbbing erection. I expected Alex to say something at that point, but he didn't, not even when I slid my hand between his legs and lifted the upper one a few inches, tucking my cock underneath. He grinned suddenly and pressed his leg down again, trapping me there between the hard muscles in his thighs. I removed my hand and squeezed out more lube, then gripped his shaft again in a slick palm and began to stroke more firmly, rocking my hips against him and gasping at the feel of my cock sliding back and forth between his legs.

"God, that feels good," I muttered. "It's not gonna take me long to cum like this."

"It never takes you long to cum with me, Walter," Alex chuckled, tightening his thighs to grip me more firmly.

"That's your fault. Too fucking hot for your own good," I said in his ear.

"There was a time when I thought that was never going to be the case."

"I know." I sank my teeth into his ear lobe. "Stop talking. Fuck my fist."

He didn't say anything else. His body moved in time with mine, bucking and thrusting, his cock slippery in my hand and mine sliding easily back and forth between his legs. I came a moment before he did, groaning and cursing loudly and then increasing the pace of my hand until he came over my fingers and the mattress. Afterwards we just lay there, spent, sticky and disinclined to get up and do anything about it. The next time I opened my eyes, I was alone.

"Alex?" I whispered. It was clear that he wasn't in the room, but I looked around anyway, my pulse quickening. I had wanted to wake up with him once last time, but as I listened I could hear him moving around in the kitchen and reluctantly I sat up and pushed back the bed covers. I grimaced at the uncomfortable feeling of my pubic hair stuck to the base of my cock, dried cum on my thighs, my balls and my hand. I was a mess and I couldn't help grinning as I got to my feet and headed for the bathroom. I wanted to find Alex, but I was also desperate to clean up. I took ten minutes to use the toilet, shower and brush my teeth and then pulled on underwear and jeans before I went into the kitchen.

"Morning, Walter." He was drinking coffee, fully dressed in the impossibly tight black jeans, shirt, sweater and boots. The canvas bag rested on the kitchen counter and a holdall sat on the floor, no doubt with the rest of his belongings in it.

"Hey." I helped myself to some coffee, frowning as my hand shook slightly. "You're ready to go, then."

"Yeah. Thought I better get an early start."

"Where do you want me to take you?"

"Williamsport will do, if that's okay. Or maybe a truck stop. Whatever, I'm gonna hitch to the nearest city and then fly to Montreal."

"I could drive you..." I began. I would have driven him to Canada if he asked, I realised.

"No, Walter. You need to get back to DC and I need to get back to...reality." He drained his mug and turned to the sink to wash it.

"Will you be okay?" I asked numbly.

"Sure. I always am."

I gripped my coffee mug tightly and clenched my other fist at my side to stop myself from reaching out to him. I wanted to go to him and grab him in my arms, to tell him I couldn't let him go. There was no point trying to lie to myself any more, or convince myself that this was just an interlude and that I would forget him as soon as I got back to the Bureau. I was in love with him and my chest was tight with the feeling I had for him. It hurt already and we hadn't even said goodbye yet. I would do it though. I would drop him in Williamsport and drive away, the same way I'd done other unpalatable things in my life. There wasn't anything else I could do.

I finished the coffee, washed the mug and then went back to the bedroom to finish dressing and pack my things. As soon as I left him, I would head straight back to DC so I may as well take everything I needed with me. In fifteen minutes, I had everything packed and was fully dressed. I put on coat and boots and Alex put on his jacket. Then he took my car keys and went to put his bags in the trunk. I picked up my own bag, locked the cabin and followed him. He was in the passenger seat waiting for me and I slid behind the wheel. Neither of us spoke as I started the engine and drove away from the cabin, wondering when I would next come back. It was never going to seem the same again.


	9. Chapter 9 - Betrayed

**Part 9 - Betrayed**

I switched on the radio as I drove to Williamsport. I couldn't think of a thing to say to Alex and he wasn't talking either. For the first time in weeks, the silence was uncomfortable and I just wanted it to be over.

The journey passed quickly. It was still early on Sunday and the roads were virtually empty. I pulled into a truck stop and diner on the outskirts of the town when Alex indicated, parking up away from the building and the two Mack trucks in the lot. I killed the engine and wiped my palms on my thighs, wondering how to say goodbye to him, but he was already out of the car before I could open my mouth. I popped the trunk so that he could get his bags, and slid out of the car too.

Alex's face was stiff, his mouth set in a thin line, eyes down and I wondered if he felt the same way I did at that moment. Every part of me ached and my throat was tight as I watched him place his bags on the ground by his feet and close the trunk.

"I guess this is it, then," Alex said gruffly, raising his eyes to my face at last. The green orbs were stormy, brows pulled together in a slight frown.

"Yeah, I guess so. Take care of yourself, Alex."

He nodded slowly. "Thanks, Walter. For everything."

"Listen...if there's ever anything you need...you know where I am," I said sadly.

"You've done enough, Walter. More than I ever could have expected."

"Well, like I said...you know where I am."

He nodded and stepped forward suddenly, wrapping his arm around my neck to give me a hug. Immediately I slid both arms around him and held him tight for a brief moment, feeling his warm breath on my neck, the light brush of his lips on my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut painfully until a few seconds later, he stepped away, pulling free from my arms. Then he stooped and grabbed the canvas bag, slinging it over his shoulder and gripping the holdall in his hand.

"Goodbye, Walter."

"Goodbye, Alex." I gave him a tight smile and stood watching as he turned and strode toward the diner, intercepting a large, bearded man as he emerged from the building. They spoke for a moment and then the man gestured to one of the trucks. Alex accompanied him across the lot and in another few seconds he climbed up into the cab. I got back into the car and started the engine, but I didn't shift into gear. I sat there for another couple of minutes as the truck lumbered slowly out onto the road and headed north, in the opposite direction to the one I would take. I sat there for a little longer, my heart aching and my stomach turning over with the thought that Alex was gone and I would never see him again.

The journey home was long and lonely. I kept comparing it to the drive home the previous week, when I'd had the next weekend to look forward to - another weekend with Alex. Now I didn't have that and all I had in front of me was the Bureau and my condo. I asked myself over and over how I'd let this happen. When I'd found him on my balcony, I'd still disliked and distrusted him, but along the way I'd fallen hook, line and sinker and now it was all I could do not to turn the car around and chase after the truck he had left in until I caught up and stopped him disappearing from my life. Common sense told me it was impossible, but it didn't stop me wanting it.

I stopped once for gas and coffee before I reached DC and when I let myself into my apartment, I found it strangely unwelcoming. My home was minimalist and functional, but I'd always liked being there previously. Now it just felt empty...lonely. I tossed my bag into a corner of the living room, shed my coat and boots and went through the routine of scanning the place and checking my messages, but there were neither bugs nor messages waiting for me. I poured myself a generous measure of Scotch and switched on the television to catch up on the news, then slumped on the sofa, scowling to myself.

I remembered a day at the cabin when Alex had fallen asleep on the sofa, exhausted. I'd put a cushion under his head and placed it in my lap and I could almost imagine he was with me now, doing the same thing and snuggling against me.

"Fuck," I muttered. I was never going to see him again and it hurt like hell.

The rest of the day crawled by and Alex was on my mind constantly. I wondered where he was, whether he was still riding in the truck or if he'd been dropped somewhere and was arranging a flight to Montreal. He would probably use the passport in the name of Xavier Tremblay, his Canadian ID. For a few moments I let a fantasy slip into my mind, where I would pack up and leave DC, get on the first flight to Montreal and go looking for him. I would find him, change my name and he would take me to his house so that we could be together and I would forget about the Bureau for good.

The daydream lasted a few minutes until I refocused and remembered I was alone in my apartment and Alex was hundreds of miles away and then I cursed myself again and poured another shot of Scotch. I had to get myself together and move on. He was gone and no amount of fantasising was going to bring him back, or take me to him.

I slept poorly that night, initially falling into a deep sleep as a result of the half bottle of Scotch I'd consumed, but then waking in the early hours of the morning with a raging thirst and pounding headache. I drank water and swallowed aspirin, but tossed and turned for the rest of the night. I felt terrible when I drove to the Bureau, wondering whether I was over the legal alcohol limit. I wasn't a drinker, but for once the thought of getting home again and opening a new bottle was a welcome one.

I was thrown into the deep end from the moment I walked into my office. My desk was covered in paperwork, Mulder was demanding to see me and Kimberly was home sick with some kind of virus. I'd been allocated a stand-in PA who didn't know me or the way I worked and I plowed through the day, topping up the aspirin every so often and making my own coffee after the first attempt by the new PA made me vow never to ask again.

The week continued in much the same way. Kimberly returned Wednesday, to my intense relief, but nothing else changed. I went through the motions and repeatedly wondered what I was doing there, and every night I returned to my lonely condo and longed to wake up with Alex in my arms. He would be in Canada now and I couldn't stop myself from imagining what his home might be like, picturing him in bed and asking myself whether he thought about me too. Did he miss me? Or was he going out in the evenings, picking up other men to satisfy himself? I couldn't really imagine that he would do more than a quick hand job or a blow job, the way he had before me, but it didn't make me feel any better. I couldn't have him for myself.

Weeks passed and nothing changed. I went on missing him and going through my life one day at a time. I went out to a bar with the intention of looking for some company, hoping that if I could meet someone else it would take my mind off him. Perhaps I would meet someone more suitable, more attractive, more sexy, that I could fall for and spend my time with, without it having to be a secret.

I did meet someone that night, but I discovered to my surprise that a man was the last thing I wanted. I couldn't face being with a guy when I wanted Alex so badly, so instead I spent my evening with a woman. Her name was Rachel and she was ten years my junior, recently divorced and just as lonely as I was. I went back to her place and took her to bed, but although it satisfied the physical need, it did nothing else for me. I couldn't bring myself to sleep in her bed and I made an excuse that I needed to get home for an imaginary pet dog, guiltily leaving her with a fictitious phone number and hoping I wouldn't run into her in the future. I felt like an asshole for behaving like that. It wasn't me - I had always been a gentleman and an honest one at that, but I wasn't myself and I wondered if I was ever going to get back to being the man I was before Alex came into my life.

Eventually I did return to at least a semblance of what I thought was normal. It was six months since I left Alex at the truck stop in Williamsport. I'd made efforts to become more enthusiastic about work and I'd gone out more and tried to meet people. I'd had a couple more one night stands with women, but so far I hadn't been tempted to date and I still wasn't. I'd put Alex behind me, but he wasn't completely forgotten and I still jerked off in the shower with my eyes closed, imagining it was his hand on me when I came. I knew I wasn't going to see him again and it had stopped hurting that I couldn't have him, but I hadn't stopped going over and over some of the things we had done together in my head.

I was woken that morning by my phone ringing and when I glanced at the clock and discovered it was barely five, I scrambled out of bed, fumbling my glasses onto my face as I picked up the receiver. It was Saturday and it had to be an emergency for anyone to call at this time.

"Skinner," I answered huskily and paused to clear my throat.

"Sir, it's Scully."

I sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Yes, Scully," I answered.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so early on a Saturday, Sir, but I'm afraid you need to come to the Bureau. Someone broke in last night."

"Broke in?" I echoed, frowning. The building was like Fort Knox, not only protected by alarms and cameras, but also by security guards.

"Yes, Sir. A number of sensitive files have been taken, from your office and Assistant Director Baker's and also from the X Files. Mr Baker was working late at the time. He's in the hospital with a head injury."

"Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed. "Where were the guards?"

"Both have been killed, Sir."

"Fuck...uh...I'm sorry, Scully," I grimaced. "I'll be there in about forty minutes." I hung up without saying anything further and headed for the bathroom.

I showered and cleaned my teeth, than pulled on some clothes and left the apartment, not even taking the time to drink coffee. I hadn't had any plans for Saturday, but I still wasn't looking forward to spending my day dealing with this mess. Who the hell could have broken into the Bureau and injured Baker? Obviously a secret agent, given that files had been taken, but from where?

By the time I arrived at the Bureau, the building was teeming with people, forensics poking around my office and Baker's, Mulder no doubt imagining we'd had an alien invasion and Scully taking a more practical approach, instructing the past several hours from the camera footage be streamed through the screen in the board room so that we could check whether anything had been picked up. I went to join her and a few others who were gathering to watch. Scully herself took charge of the remote control to skip through the long, empty stretches of tape.

"Any news on Baker?" I asked her in a low voice as I took the seat next to her.

"He's in surgery, Sir. He had a small brain haemorrhage."

"Christ," I muttered.

"Has anyone spoken to you about this yet?" she asked.

"No, I just got here."

"They think it could be Russia. Considering the files that were taken..."

"Russia?" I shut my mouth as several other people came into the room and sat around the table, Mulder dropping into the seat the other side of me.

"Morning, Sir," he said with a lop-sided grin.

"Mulder. What are your theories on this?" I queried.

"Russia. You'll come to the same conclusion when you see what they took."

I glanced at him. "What did they take?"

"Information on the gulag and the silos. Stuff from Tunguska out of the basement, about the Black Oil - my files. You know, I wouldn't be surprised if Krycek was behind this."

"He's dead," I blurted under my breath, before I could stop myself.

Mulder's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "Dead? How? When? How did you...?"

"The Smoking Man," I whispered, aware that Scully and a couple of others were now watching us and waiting for the tape to start.

"What happened?"

"I don't know the details. I understand he outlived his usefulness."

"But..."

"Mulder, we're ready," Scully said sharply and he turned his attention quickly from me to her. I suppressed a grin. Mulder usually behaved like a faithful pet around Scully.

I sat back in the chair and looked at the screen as a blur of empty footage raced by for several minutes. Then Scully halted the fast-forward function to reveal a figure at one side of the screen. The time showed 2215 and she rolled the tape back a little before pressing 'play'.

The tape was from the camera in the corridor outside my office. I watched, frowning, as the figure came into view, moving swiftly along the wall away from the camera, head down, halting outside my door and making short work of the lock before slipping into the room. Scully skipped the tape forward again until four minutes had passed and then the intruder emerged from the room and turned away from the camera again, heading along to Baker's office. He tried the door, found it unlocked and then burst in quickly and boldly without knowing how many people were inside, if any. Seven minutes later, he emerged and once again walked away from the camera and around a corner out of view.

Scully rewound the tape to play the sequence again and I swallowed dryly, wondering if anyone else saw what I saw. They didn't know him like I did and they probably didn't know about the arm either. Mulder was watching intently, his head tilted to one side, but I didn't see how he could know.

What I saw, was a tall, slim, but muscular form, dressed in skin-tight dark pants and a leather jacket, moving along the wall like a cat, lithe and...sexy. The left shoulder moved naturally in the same way the right one did, but the arm hung awkwardly and wasn't employed in either the picking of the lock into my office or the carrying of the canvas bag when he emerged. He was wearing a baseball cap, the bill pulled low and he never turned his face more than a small amount sideways so the most the camera had been able to pick up was short, dark hair and one ear, but I knew it was him - I would have staked my life on it.

I felt sick. I knew the kind of person he was - I'd always known - but somehow I'd thought that part of his life was over. I had imagined him going to his home in Canada, spending some time there, maybe travelling somewhere else under one of his fake passports, but I hadn't considered he would return to this. Maybe he just never left. Maybe he'd been fooling me all along, seducing me so that I'd help him get away from Cancerman so that he could return to whichever country wanted to employ his services. The others were probably right - he most likely was working for Russia. Perhaps he always had been.

A jumble of thoughts ran through my head as I blankly watched the rest of the tapes - one showing Alex creep up on a security guard from behind, his hand resting on the gun tucked into the back of his pants. When the guard turned a moment before Alex reached him, drawing his gun, Alex pulled his own out in a split second and shot the man at point blank range. I recognised the Russian weapon, a silencer in place. It was used again to dispatch the other guard and I watched with morbid fascination as yet another tape showed the inside of my office, picking up Alex forcing the lock on my desk, rifling through papers, then going to the filing cabinet in the corner and taking some files. The final tape showed Baker's office and I ground my teeth together as Alex burst through the door, took in the figure of Baker standing by the window, drew his gun and then pistol whipped him rather than shooting him.

Just six months ago, Alex had been my lover. We'd been so close and I knew I hadn't imagined that he returned my feelings. I was probably the world's least observant man when it came to body language and overtures, but I knew I hadn't mistaken the look in his eyes, his demeanour, the way he acted around me, the way he clung to me when we slept together and when we said goodbye. I felt betrayed. Even if I'd thought he might still be working for a group like Cancerman's, or for the Russians, or whoever, I never would have thought he'd do this. It made me wonder what would have happened if I'd been working late like Baker. If Alex burst into my office and found me there, would he have hurt me? Hit me in the head or shot me? Did he care at all or would he coldly put any feelings aside to get the job done?

I reached for the glass of water on the table in front of me and gulped some, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. My fingers came away damp and Mulder glanced at me curiously.

"Are you alright, Sir?" he whispered.

"Yes, Mulder. Just a little warm in here," I muttered.

Mulder glanced down at his own heavy sweater and jeans and raised an eyebrow. At that moment I hated the man. I almost felt as if it were his fault I was sitting here seeing the man I loved - had loved - showing me his true colours and tossing how I felt back in my face.

At last the tapes were finished with and Scully switched off the screen. No one around the table had any theories and no one recognised anything about the perpetrator. I was relieved that Mulder didn't know about Alex's arm, because if he had done, he would have cottoned on. Mulder might be annoying, but he was smart and he saw things that others didn't. I told myself that I didn't want anyone to realise it was Alex they were watching because it would be awkward for me to have to face it, but I knew that part of me just didn't want him to get caught and maybe killed. I was a fool. I still cared for him and I wanted him to stay safe.

It wasn't until later in the day that something occurred to me. The Syndicate would get to hear about this - it was unavoidable - which meant that Cancerman would see the tapes. He would undoubtedly recognise Alex and that made me wonder why Alex had been so careless about being seen. He would know there were cameras everywhere, so why hadn't he done something about it? He was perfectly capable of disabling the cameras, or breaking into the room that housed the machines, to take the tapes. He must know that if Cancerman saw the tapes, he would know Alex wasn't dead and that I hadn't disposed of his body. I couldn't believe that something like that just wouldn't have occurred to him and this realisation made me feel worse than ever. Alex could disappear like a ghost, but I couldn't. I was stuck here and I would have to face the music. He didn't give a shit about me.

That night I barely slept. A number of ridiculous notions went through my head, one featuring myself going back to the Bureau when everyone had left and removing the tapes before anyone else could see them. In another scenario I found a suitably shady character and paid him to go in there and retrieve the tapes on my behalf. I was thinking like a criminal - like Alex - and it infuriated me, but the one thing on my mind was that when Cancerman found out Alex wasn't dead, I would be the next one on the hit list. My position in the Bureau wouldn't keep me safe.

By the time I rose on Sunday, I felt sick with anxiety, until I was treated to a phone call from Mulder which for once, I found surprisingly welcome. He reported that there had been a second break-in. This time the guards had seen nothing until it was too late. No one had been injured and the sole purpose of the intruder had been to steal the tapes from the security room, which they had apparently succeeded in doing when the security guys were in other parts of the building. The thief had been caught by two of the cameras and Mulder reported that it was definitely a different man to the first - this one was apparently short, thin and more careful about disguising his face with the wearing of a balaclava. I heaved an enormous sigh of relief. The likely explanation for the removal of the tapes, was that Alex had arranged for someone to go in there on his behalf, although why he hadn't done something about it himself when he was in the building was a mystery to me. I couldn't imagine him forgetting about something so vital, unless he hadn't actually cared about whether he was recognised on the tapes, only realising later that if he was, there would be trouble for me. I wanted this to be the case. I wanted him to have thought about me and worried that if Cancerman realised I hadn't disposed of him after all, I would be in danger, but I didn't know if that were true. I didn't know anything any more, not even if he had actually cared anything for me. Six months ago I'd been convinced that he felt as I did, but now, I just didn't know. I shrugged as I sat back in an armchair and poured myself another Scotch. I had to stop thinking about him. It was eating me up inside.

A thorough investigation continued during the next couple of weeks, with Mulder and Scully leading the effort, but they were unable to turn up anything that might direct them to the person or people responsible for the theft of the files. The only conclusion they came to was the one which had been voiced in the board room right after it happened - that Russia was behind it. The Syndicate were keeping a discreet silence and I knew that Mulder suspected they knew more than they were letting on, but even Cancerman didn't contact me and although this made me curious, I didn't waste too much time worrying about it. I had other things to deal with, as did everyone else.

There was just one thing which had been niggling at me since the day when the tapes were stolen. I'd seen him on two occasions and told myself it was my imagination, but I knew deep down that I was being watched. I had felt eyes on me several times - in the parking lot at the Bureau, outside my condo, once when I stood out on the balcony. I'd seen a small, slim figure lurking just far enough away to be perfectly innocent, wearing a hat and scarf to obscure his features, but I knew he was watching me and it unnerved me to begin with. I considered that he was one of Cancerman's minions, keeping an eye on what I was doing, but then another idea occurred to me. The man who had stolen the tapes, who I'd later seen myself on the security tape which had captured him going into the recording room, fitted the description of this person I'd spotted watching me. Could it be the same one? If that was the case, could he be working for Alex? Watching my back instead of waiting for me to trip myself up?

I decided to try to catch him to find out, but despite being more observant, I didn't see him again. Once or twice over the next week I felt a prickle on the back of my neck and had spun around, but either it was my imagination or he had become better at staying out of sight. A few more days passed and I got the feeling that he was gone. I no longer felt as if I were being watched and the Bureau had put the episode behind it. Four additional guards had been taken on and the agents trying to find the perpetrator had given up. It was over and whoever that small man had been, he had moved on too.


	10. Chapter 10 - Reunion

**Part 10 - Reunion**

It took about another six months before I put it all behind me. I kept telling myself to stop thinking about Alex, but it wasn't easy. I was confused and angry and I still missed him, but eventually I started to move on properly. By the time another winter had passed, I had met someone and actually begun dating.

Rosemary was my age, divorced with a son in college and she worked in the bank where I had my safety deposit box. We met in the parking lot when I found her cursing her car which had refused to start. I helped her out by calling a recovery truck and then giving her a ride. She invited me for coffee to say thank you and it progressed from there with dinners, visits to the theatre, drives out to different places on Sundays. I never even considered going with another guy and I told myself Alex was firmly in my past, although I hadn't forgotten him completely. He would force his way into my mind when I was least expecting it and I was infuriated by it. I wanted to get on with my life - my work at the Bureau, my new relationship, even looking for a new home - but I didn't seem able to completely.

I determinedly avoided going back to my cabin, convinced that it would be too full of memories of the time I'd spent there with Alex. I considered appointing a real estate agent to sell it, but I knew I'd have to go back there to get the items I still wanted and I hadn't been able to bring myself to do it. Instead, I ignored it and poured myself into everything else.

Rosemary ditched me right after the Christmas holidays. We'd been together approaching a year and she told me a part of me was always somewhere else. We had no future when I couldn't give all of myself to the relationship or communicate properly and I knew she was right. I accepted her decision without question and that seemed to upset her more than the fact that I was always distant.

I needed a change and I decided to finally get off of my ass and do something about it. I started by putting the condo up for sale and then walked into the Bureau one Monday morning and handed in my letter of resignation. I had no idea what I would do with my life from there on, but I thought I might travel for a while - see things I'd always thought of seeing and never got around to. I had no ties anywhere and I'd barely spent anything over the past few years so I had enough money to not worry about working for the foreseeable future. I was forty-five and I realised I'd been in a rut for far too long, coasting along with no direction and no inclination to make things better.

Eight weeks later I was free. It was March, I had an offer on the condo and I'd packed up my belongings at the Bureau and walked out the door for one last time, despite fervent protests from Kimberly and Scully and a few others. Most surprisingly, Mulder expressed a determination to make me change my mind, but I wouldn't be swayed. I had no interest in continuing in the FBI and imagined myself leaving DC altogether in the future.

I decided to finally make the long-avoided visit to the cabin near Williamsport, to collect the items most important to me. I would put them in storage along with the furniture from my condo and perhaps sell the cabin too. Then I would take off and see where life took me.

Winter was lingering and I hired a truck to drive to the cabin. There was snow on the ground and I imagined it would be much worse in Williamsport than it was in the city. I didn't want to find myself stuck there if it had drifted and I remembered to pick up a couple cans of gas on the way in case I needed to use the generator. I arrived in the late afternoon, just as dusk was falling, and let myself into the cabin for the first time in over two years.

Immediately I got a strange feeling of someone's presence and I shrugged it off, telling myself that it was memory of Alex being there with me. I closed the door behind me, removed coat and boots and took my bag into the bedroom. The bedding was rumpled, the comforter mostly on the floor and I frowned at it in puzzlement. I was sure I hadn't left it like that when I took Alex to the truck stop. I usually stripped the beds and left the mattresses exposed to the air, but I couldn't exactly remember doing that two years before. Perhaps I'd been too distracted by him, knowing I was going to have to say goodbye to him.

I dumped the bag on the floor and walked to the side of the bed he had slept in, picking up the pillow and pressing it to my face. It smelled dusty and slightly damp, but that was all and I tossed it back onto the bed. I walked into the kitchen, turning on lights and heaving a sigh of relief that the power wasn't down. I reached for the kettle to fill it and then paused as my eyes landed on an empty vodka bottle standing beside the toaster. I didn't drink vodka and Alex hadn't either when he was with me. What the hell?

My heart slammed against my ribs and my breathing quickened as I made my way around the rest of the cabin, looking for other tell tale signs that someone had been here more recently than I had. There was just one more - a brand new toothbrush with its discarded plastic cover on the side of the sink in the bathroom.

I knew it was Alex. Who else, other than Mulder and Scully, even knew about this cabin? Would some random stranger break in and sleep in my bed, drink vodka and clean their teeth in my bathroom? How long ago had he been here? I didn't think it was recent - the bedding was dusty and there was dust on the cap of the vodka bottle. Frowning, I took another more careful look around, but other than the items I'd already noticed, there was nothing else. I even checked the door and all of the windows, but could find no sign of forced entry, but that didn't tell me anything. Alex could get into Fort Knox without a trace and he certainly could have picked the lock on my door without leaving a mark on it.

I absently went about making myself some coffee, while my heart continued to race with excitement and I cursed myself for feeling like that. He was in my past - two years in the past and since then he'd broken into the Bureau, killed two men and injured Baker, stolen files and almost put me in an impossible situation with the Syndicate. I should hate him and I told myself if he were to show up now, I would deck him. I could imagine myself doing it - one fist, then the other, making him stagger backwards with only one hand raised to ward me off. Then I remembered how I'd found him on my balcony, beaten and bleeding, half dead and I knew I'd never hurt him.

"You fucking jerk, Walter!" I cursed, stirring my coffee vigorously. I was imagining he was suddenly going to walk through the door again and that was hardly likely to happen. He had probably come back here once, perhaps close to the time when he broke into the Bureau, and that was more than a year and a half ago. I swore again, furious with myself and with him. I'd spent the past two years trying to forget about him and now here he was, forcing his way into my head all over again.

I spent the next few days doing the things I usually did when I spent time at the cabin. I hiked and fished, did some maintenance and drove into Williamsport to stock up on a few supplies. I didn't see a soul when I was at the cabin - the others were all empty as was usual at that time of year. Even Jeb, who I had occasionally seen in the winter, wasn't using his place and I had utter peace and quiet, the only sounds being that of the wildlife, particularly after the snow melted on a warmer day, revealing the green sprigs of spring poking through the ground.

I still wasn't able to stop thinking about Alex and it was that which spoiled the tranquility for me. I continually questioned what he'd done since I said goodbye to him and I questioned myself on how I felt and how I would react if I saw him now.

It was Saturday afternoon when my solitude was interrupted. I was gutting some fish I'd caught when I heard the sound of an engine and I looked out of the kitchen window to see a car pull up outside. For a moment my heart lurched, until Mulder stepped out and then it sank again and I scowled as I wiped my hands and went to answer his knock on my door.

"What are you doing here, Mulder?"

"Paying a visit, Sir."

"I'm not Sir any more, Mulder," I reminded him. "Plain old Walter will do."

Mulder grinned lopsidedly. "I was hoping I might twist your arm into changing your mind."

"You could hold a gun to my head, Mulder, and I wouldn't come back," I frowned. "I thought we'd already gone over this, more than once."

"I guess I was hoping a few days out here might have made you realise you made a mistake. The Bureau would still have you back, you know, Sir - Walter. Since Baker retired after his injury and that new jerk, Mitchell took over, you were the only one that ever got anything done. They all miss you, Walter. _We _all miss you."

"Does Scully know you're here?" I asked, turning to walk back into the kitchen and leaving him to follow if he chose to. I was exasperated and I knew he wasn't going to be easy to get rid of. Sure enough, he closed the door behind him and followed me.

"Nope. But she'd be all for it. She misses you more than most."

"I doubt that." I picked up my knife and jabbed it viciously into one of the fishes' bellies. Mulder grimaced and took a step backward.

"Walter, what do you plan on doing exactly? Staying out here and turning into a hermit?"

"I don't think that's any of your concern," I responded. "I quit, if you remember. Twenty years is quite long enough in the Bureau. I intend to enjoy life while I'm still young enough."

"Forgive me for saying so, Sir, but that sounds too lacking in direction for you."

"It's Walter," I reminded him firmly. "Look, Mulder, I'm not in the mood for visitors. You're wasting your time if you think I'm going to pack up and come back with you. I sold my condo and I'm considering selling this place too. I'm going to travel and then find somewhere new to settle, away from the city."

"But, Sir.." Mulder began again earnestly.

"No! Get it through that dense head of yours that I'm done with the bureaucracy and the endless paperwork, the back-stabbing and all the shit that goes with the position I had. Either you can go back out there and drive away, or you can drop it and have some dinner before you get on the road. Your choice, Mulder, but I don't want to hear another word about it. Like I said, I'm done."

"Alright...Walter." Mulder sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry. I just thought...well, never mind." He slipped his coat off and hung it on a peg on the back of the kitchen door.

"Help yourself to coffee if you want," I said, nodding at the kettle on the counter. Mulder opened a couple of cupboard doors until he found a mug and then suddenly picked up the empty vodka bottle which I hadn't yet put in the trash.

"Didn't have you down as a vodka man."

It was on the tip of my tongue to blurt, 'I'm not,' but I managed to swallow it. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Mulder."

We made awkward conversation for the next couple of hours while I finished the meal and we ate. Mulder was determined to keep bringing things back to the Bureau. He didn't mention me returning again, but he talked about the case he was working on and about Scully and a couple of new agents and he reminded me of things we'd worked on together in the past. All of it served to make me more sure that I'd done the right thing by leaving.

I hadn't intended to let Mulder hang around, but by the time I'd cleared away the remains of the meal, darkness surrounded the cabin and Mulder was yawning, asking me whether there was a motel nearby where he could spend the night, rather than face another six-hour drive the same day. I relented and let him use my guest room, resigned as I retired to my own room some time later. In the morning, I would send him packing the minute he'd had breakfast.

I was disturbed in the early hours of the morning and I squinted at my clock, noting it was three-fifteen. I heard footsteps outside my room and assumed it must be Mulder going to use the bathroom, until I heard the click of the safety on a gun and then I shot upright in bed, instantly wide awake. I reached for my own weapon, now a privately registered gun after I'd turned in my FBI issue collection, and slipped silently out of bed. I crept to the door and opened it a crack, immediately spying Mulder in the hallway, half-dressed in unfastened jeans and a t-shirt, a jacket hanging from one arm, gun in hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I growled under my breath and the man jumped, spinning around with wide eyes.

"Walter!"

"Planning on dragging me back to DC at gunpoint?" I asked wryly.

"I heard something."

"The woods around here are full of somethings," I pointed out. "Probably a deer."

"Deer don't wear boots. I heard footsteps," Mulder said.

"Jeez. Give me a minute." I lowered my weapon and ducked back into my room, quickly pulling on hiking pants and a sweater over my pajamas and shoving my feet into a pair of boots.

"You're going out there?" Mulder queried.

"If it's a deer, I'll have venison for weeks," I answered flippantly, holding my gun low at my side as I unlocked the door. I stepped outside, looking left and right. There was no sign of movement and no sound.

"They could be around the other side of the cabin," whispered Mulder.

"Who's this 'they'? Aliens?" Scowling, I turned left and trudged along the side of the cabin. When I glanced back over my shoulder, Mulder was creeping in the opposite direction as if he were on a mission, gun held at the side of his head. Indulging him, I turned the corner and made my way around the back of the building, then halted with my breath caught in my throat when I heard a yell.

"What the fuck? You!" It was Mulder's voice and I raced around the next corner, the sound of struggling loud in the silence of night. Grunts and groans, cursing, thuds that sounded like fists hitting flesh. By the time I reached them, one figure was pinning the other to the wall of the cabin by the throat and the victim was flailing and scrabbling at his own neck in an effort to get free. If only I'd thought to grab a flashlight. I hurried closer, panting, my heart racing as I realised that the new visitor was none other than Alex and it was he who was pinning Mulder to the wall, with his left hand.

"Alex!"

His head spun to face me and he released Mulder quickly. Choking and rubbing his throat, Mulder bent to retrieve his dropped weapon and raised it again, pointing it at Alex.

"Put it down, Mulder," I said and it was his turn to face me in surprise.

"What are you doing here, Alex?" I gritted out, unsure whether I felt anger or delight at that moment. I was certainly shocked, not least by the apparently new and very efficient prosthesis he was wearing. I tucked my gun into my belt.

"He's looking pretty damn healthy for a dead man," Mulder panted, still aiming his gun in the general direction of Alex, although he had lowered it.

I swallowed hard, unsure quite how to proceed. I stared at Alex expectantly, waiting for him to say something, but he stayed silent.

"You gonna let me arrest this bastard?" asked Mulder. "I should kill him, but you apparently don't want me to do that. Why did you tell me he was dead, Walter?"

Alex raised an eyebrow and then frowned slightly. I pursed my lips up and blew my breath out. Mulder wasn't going to keep his mouth shut about this, whatever I said to him. Cancerman was sure to find out that Alex was still alive and then it would only be a matter of time before someone came looking for me.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Mulder directed at Alex. "Eighteen months ago, killing the guards at the Bureau and pistol-whipping Baker. Who were you working for?"

"You actually think I'd tell you?" Alex said with a slight smirk. "Come on, Mulder, you know me better than that."

"You fucking smug...!" Mulder lurched forward, aiming both his fist and his gun at Alex at the same time. The fist connected, but the other wrist was quickly caught in Alex's false hand and squeezed painfully. Mulder dropped the gun again with a yelp and I realised I needed to do more than just stand and watch. What I needed to do was talk to Alex and that wasn't going to be terribly easy with Mulder around.

"Alex, let him go," I said sharply. "Mulder, get in the house."

"But, Sir..."

"I don't think he's accepted you leaving yet," Alex said and I glowered at him. He released Mulder, who rubbed his wrist, grimacing, but quickly did as I said and walked around the corner of the cabin. A few seconds later I heard the door slam closed. I bent to retrieve Mulder's gun and shoved it into the back of my pants, then headed to the front of the cabin where it was at least a little lighter without the canopy of trees that surrounded the rear. Alex followed, silently, until I turned to face him and suddenly the emotion that came to the surface, squashing down any others, was fury.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I demanded, grabbing him by the upper arms. I slammed him back against the wall of the cabin and held him there and he stood still, arms hanging at his sides, his gun dangling from two fingers.

"I needed to see you."

"Why now? What the fuck have we got to say to each other?" I let him go and backed up a step. "Your little mission eighteen months ago could have gotten me killed! Enough people saw the security tapes. It's only luck that our cancerous friend didn't get to see them that day...!"

"I know, I'm sorry. I fucked up." Alex closed his eyes for a moment and his brows drew together before he opened them again and looked back at me.

"What if I'd been working late like Baker? Would I have been in the hospital having brain surgery too?" I demanded.

"No, of course you wouldn't. I wouldn't have touched you. Whatever you might think of me, Walter, I wouldn't have hurt you, even if it meant abandoning my orders and getting myself killed."

"So why didn't you take the tapes that night?"

"Honestly? My mind wasn't on it one hundred percent. I kept thinking about what I'd do if you were in there. You were all I was thinking about. The minute I left the building I knew I'd fucked up, but it was too late to go back in. I hired a guy to fix it the next day and just hoped the Syndicate hadn't already seen me on the tapes. That same guy spent the next month watching you to make sure there was no comeback."

I remembered the small, slim man lurking in the shadows. I'd suspected at the time that he might have been there to protect me rather than the opposite. "How do you expect me to trust you?" I asked more quietly. "After everything."

"Because I'm telling you the truth. I never lied to you, Walter."

"So why did you do it? I'm assuming you were working for Russia?"

"Yes."

"Are you still?"

"No." Alex shook his head. "It was a one-off."

"Then why?"

"This." He held up his left arm, rotated it a little and held the hand out towards me. He was wearing leather gloves, but even with the hand covered, it was clear that it was completely different from the cheap plastic prosthetic he'd had before. He wiggled the fingers, clenched them into a fist and then spread them out again before lowering the arm to his side.

"I thought they were reserved for those more deserving," I remembered.

"This is a new thing, from Japan. It's about the money, not who you are. They paid me a million bucks to get those files and this little beauty was almost as much as that. It's surgically attached. I spent three months in a Japanese hospital, one of two experiments before they rolled it out to anyone who could afford it. That's the _only_ reason I agreed to that job and I haven't taken on any more since. I don't plan to either. I have enough left to live on for a while, especially after I sold the house in Canada."

"Fuck," I muttered. I didn't know what to think. I'd wanted to be angry with him, to hate him, but I found I couldn't. I could remember when I'd hauled him, shivering, from my balcony and put him in my bath to warm up. He'd been self-conscious about the stump remaining from his severed arm and continued to be uncomfortable about it even when I'd made it clear it didn't make any difference to me. Who wouldn't do anything possible to make that better? To have two arms again.

"I came here last winter," Alex went on. "I thought maybe you'd be here. I would have explained to you then why I did what I did and asked you to...I don't know...forgive me, if that were possible. I stayed two weeks, but you didn't come and I can't stay too long in one place here."

"I wondered," I admitted. "The empty vodka bottle? The toothbrush?"

"I left those on purpose. I wanted to leave you a note, but I didn't know what to say. I expected you to be pissed and you'd probably have torn up anything I wrote. I needed to see you."

"So why now?"

"It's the first opportunity I had to come back. I checked about a month ago, but you weren't here. I went to DC too and saw you sold the condo so I didn't know if I was too late, but I knew you were still at the Bureau. I figured it was worth coming by here again. I guess I didn't expect you to have...company."

"Mulder turned up last night," I said. "He wasn't invited."

"So, is this a vacation, or...?"

"I left the Bureau just last week," I said. "I don't know if you learned that when you were checking up on me."

"No." Alex shook his head.

"Mulder showed up hoping to change my mind and make me go back."

"Why'd you quit?"

"Twenty years...I'd had enough."

"What do you plan to do now?"

"I haven't completely decided. I thought I might travel for a while. What about you?"

"After I got the arm, I spent a few months living in Germany before I came back here. I thought I'd see how this went before I made any decisions."

"How did you expect it to go? You think we'd pick up where we left off two years ago?" I sounded sharper than I intended to, but my heart was racing. It should have mattered more, what he'd done, but somehow it didn't. I was no part of law enforcement any more and nothing had actually happened to me. I couldn't help thinking that maybe...

"No, I didn't think that. Why would you even want to after the shit I pulled? I just...I wanted to at least talk it out so I could move on."

"Are you with someone?" I asked, feeling annoyingly crestfallen. Surely he must be, after two years, but he shook his head.

"I pretty much went back to doing what I did before I met you. Occasional fooling around, nothing more. You?"

"I dated for almost a year," I told him, my pulse quickening further. "Broke up a couple of months ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It wasn't really...what I wanted. She wanted more out of it than I did."

"She?" Alex's eyebrows rose.

"I guess I didn't feel like getting into anything with another guy after..." I trailed off as the cabin door burst open again and Mulder emerged, armed with one of my hunting rifles.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Walter?"

"Mind your own fucking business," Alex growled, not even turning his head to give Mulder one glance.

"Go back inside," I added.

"How well do you actually know Krycek?" Mulder went on, ignoring both of us.

"Well enough." I couldn't help a smirk as I imagined the reaction I would get if I told him exactly what we had been to each other.

"We have some catching up to do," Alex said.

"Before you go to jail, you mean?"

"Mulder, back off." I turned to look at him. "This is my private land and you came here uninvited. I have some things I need to deal with, so either go back to bed, or get in your car and leave."

"But, Sir...!" Mulder looked shocked as his eyes darted between Alex and me. "He should be locked up after what he's done. Baker could have been killed, like those two guards. _You_ could have been killed if you'd been there!"

"Well, I wasn't was I? I won't tell you again. This isn't your business. You can do whatever the hell you like when you get back to DC, but I'm telling you, while you're here, keep out of it."

"I've got my phone," Mulder said doubtfully.

"Who are you gonna call?" Alex asked him. "Your buddies at the Bureau? Go ahead. I'll be long gone by the time anyone shows up and the only one who'll get any shit from this is Walter. Do you want that?"

Mulder's mouth hung open for a moment and then he snapped it shut, turned on his heel and stamped back into the house. I turned back to Alex, realising that my hands were numb with cold and I was shivering.

"We still have a lot to talk about. Are you coming inside?"

"Sure, if that's what you want." Alex gave me a smile and the rather strained looked disappeared from his face. I nodded slightly and headed to the door, wondering what I would say to him. Would this just be a hashing out of what had happened in the past, laying ghosts to rest, or would it lead to something more? I had never been able to forget him and now the things that were at the forefront of my mind weren't what had happened in the past two years, but what had happened in those three weeks at my cabin.


	11. Chapter 11 - Three Little Words

******Part 11 - Three Little Words**

I led the way into the cabin, my heart pounding. What would I say to him? What would I say to Mulder? I kicked my boots off in the hallway and glanced into the living room, noting Mulder sitting on the sofa with the rifle resting across his lap, clearly having no intention of going back to bed. I closed the door and waved my hand in the direction of the kitchen as Alex joined me in the hall.

"Wait in there, I'll just be a minute," I said. I went to my room, remembering I was wearing pajamas beneath my outer clothes. I placed my gun on the bedside table and Mulder's on the dresser, then quickly stripped out of my clothes and pulled the pants and sweater back on, omitting underwear for once. Unable to delay any longer, I made my way to the kitchen and closed the door. Alex had switched on the miniature lights under the wall cupboards, but left the main fluorescents off and I left them as they were.

Alex was leaning against the kitchen counter, his jacket removed and hanging on one of the bar stools. He was wearing a green sweater underneath and I recognised it as one of the items of clothing he'd bought in Williamsport. The sleeves had been a little too long and now he had them pulled down to his knuckles, apparently in a bid to cover the prosthetic as he had also taken off his gloves. I noticed the fingers of the new arm looked like gun metal with a silver sheen to them. I tried to ignore the fact that the jeans he wore were as painfully tight as ever, clinging to muscular thighs and that his pectorals and biceps were clearly defined beneath the fabric of the sweater. His face looked older, tired somehow, even though it had only been two years - he was still only twenty-eight.

"What are you going to tell Mulder?" he asked me. "He won't be satisfied with 'mind your own business'."

"I know that." I shrugged and reached for the kettle. "You want some coffee?"

"Thanks."

It gave me a moment to think about what to say to him, while I filled the kettle, switched it on and dumped coffee into two mugs. My pulse wasn't slowing and rather than thinking about the past two years, I was replaying scenes in my head from when he'd been at the cabin before. I shook myself and glanced at him, noting he wasn't speaking either. Was he thinking the same thing I was?

"Uh...so...how long did it take you to get used to the arm?" I asked randomly, turning to lean back against the counter beside him.

"About six months. It works from the nerves in my shoulder. They had to...remove a bit more of my...my arm to attach it correctly."

I frowned at the thought. He wouldn't have enjoyed that one bit, but I imagined the scarred portion of his stump was now gone.

"What's it made of?"

"It's an experimental compound - titanium, fibre glass, some other stuff that makes it flexible. It behaves pretty much like a normal arm in the way that I can move it, even though there are no visible joints, and it adopts my body heat, at least a little."

"May I see?" I asked, fascinated. What he was describing was something I wouldn't have thought possible, at least not until the next century or maybe beyond.

"Uh...Walter...you don't want to see that, it's just a robotic arm," he said awkwardly, pulling the cuff of the sweater completely down over his hand. "No one's seen it, other than the doctors."

"I saw the other one," I reminded him.

"Yeah, that piece of shit. You fixed it for me, remember?" He picked up his coffee mug and gulped some, wincing at the heat, before replacing it on the counter. He looked up then and met my eyes, his deep green orbs reflecting the shade of the sweater, even in the dimly lit room. "You're probably gonna think this is...freaky."

"After some of the stuff Mulder's shown me, I doubt it," I answered with a slight smile.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Alex stepped away from the counter and faced me, then gripped the hem of the sweater with both hands. He lifted it suddenly, peeling it off over his head and pulling his arms free, the prosthetic moving in exactly the same way his real arm did. He was wearing a grey t-shirt underneath, the thin fabric stretched tight over his chest and the sleeves ripped out to reveal his arms all the way up to the shoulders. My eyes immediately fixed on the left arm, dark grey, silvery metal with a matte appearance, shaped exactly like the other arm, right down to the size and shape of each muscle. He bent it up and the elbow bent, the smooth metal surface unbroken by joints just as he had said.

"How is that possible?" I reached out curiously with a fingertip and felt the cool, but not cold metal. I ran my hand over the bicep, peering at the shorter, unscarred stump of his arm which extended around three inches from his shoulder, providing a cap which covered the top of the metal portion so that the two seemed melded into one.

"I don't know. Modern technology, I guess. You know the Japanese."

"It's amazing. Is it uncomfortable at all? You used to take the other one off to sleep."

"Well, I can't take this one off," Alex said with a grin. "It took a bit of getting used to. I just make sure I sleep on my back or my right side."

"Can you do everything with it? Pick up a single sheet of paper? Fasten buttons?"

"Yeah, everything. I broke a lot of things at first. You have to learn how hard to grip."

I realised I'd stroked my hand down the length of the arm again and was lightly gripping the wrist in my hand. The fingers were curled into a loose fist.

"It only has one down side," Alex added.

"What's that?"

"It can't feel. I mean, I can't feel your touch."

My eyes shot back up to his face. He looked thoughtful, wistful even, and I knew then that he was thinking about the few weeks we had spent together before. Could we have that again, I wondered? Even if it was only temporary?

Everything I should have been saying to him deserted me. I should have pushed him away, told him to leave, told him how betrayed I'd felt when he broke into the Bureau and how I wished he hadn't bothered to find me. I should tell him to go back to Canada or Germany or wherever the hell he could find a home and leave me in peace, but my racing heart and the slight twitch in my pants argued fervently with my brain.

Instead I lifted the other hand and encircled his right wrist loosely, then ran my fingertips up the inside of his arm until I reached his bicep, giving it a firmer squeeze. His arm shivered under my touch, but it remained dangling at his side, the fist loosely curled the same as the metal one. My hand made its way back down his arm again until it reached his wrist, then lower still until I had entwined our fingers into a messy tangle.

I could hear every subtle sound in the silence of the room - the slight intake of breath from Alex, my own breathing, my blood rushing in my ears and my heart thundering against my ribs. I realised I still wanted him just as much as ever. I still loved him as much as I'd tried to deny it to myself and even though we hadn't said anything - hadn't talked out the things we had started on outdoors - I didn't feel as if it was important any more. He was back. He was here right in front of me and if I let him go again I would kick myself for the rest of my life.

"Walter..." My name was barely a whisper, a whimper almost, and I became aware that he had edged closer until our bodies lightly touched. I felt his breath on my cheek and my cock, which had risen rapidly inside my loose pants, was pushing against his zipper. His head was lowered slightly and when I turned mine, our cheeks brushed. I took my hand off his metal arm and placed it in the middle of his lower back instead, feeling the damp heat of him through the thin t-shirt the butt of his gun sticking out of the back of his jeans. I applied light pressure with my hand so that he leaned against me. I immediately felt that he was as hard as I was, his cock straining against the confines of his jeans. He chuckled suddenly and pulled back a little, glancing down between us.

"No underwear, Walter?"

"Uh...well...I was in my pajamas when you showed up," I said, remembering myself commenting on his state of dress one time two years before. "Didn't you once say that underwear only makes your dick less accessible?"

"Something along those lines." I expected him to press close again, but he stepped away from me, pulling his hand free of mine and retrieving his coffee mug. My expression must have shown my disappointment because he smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Walter, you don't really want me to get your dick out with Mulder in the next room, do you?"

"Fuck," I muttered. I had completely forgotten about Mulder in that moment.

"Anyway..." His face straightened. "I need to know what you want. It seems like maybe you want me, but isn't that just the past talking? Maybe you're seeing me here two years ago, remembering. Things have happened since then."

"Yeah, they have. I was just wondering how much they matter, really." I sipped my coffee and grimaced, putting the mug down again. I'd made it too strong. "Look...when you were here before, I had feelings for you, you must have known that." My racing heart sped up. I hadn't meant to just blurt it out and it amused me that I could say that to him - be completely honest about how I'd felt...still felt...when both Sharon and Rosemary had complained that I didn't communicate and kept my feelings to myself.

I didn't miss Alex's intake of breath, louder this time. "Yeah...I guess I knew...hoped. But it was pointless then. I couldn't stay around, you were still with the Bureau, I couldn't expect you to...want anything more with me."

"Did you want...something more with me?" I asked breathlessly.

"Fuck, Walter, getting on that fucking truck and heading for Canada was the hardest thing I ever did in my life!" he exclaimed. "Did I want something more with you? I didn't want to fucking leave! If it wouldn't have meant Cancerman coming after you, I'd have stayed...stayed with you. I'd never had that before...someone wanting me that much...kissing me like you did...like you really meant it. Like you cared about me."

"Alex..." My heart felt as if it might burst from my chest and I made a move toward him, just as the door flew open to reveal Mulder, rifle in hand.

"What the hell is going on? I heard yelling," he said.

"It's nothing." Alex turned so that his back and right side were angled towards Mulder, hiding the robotic arm, his head lowered. I snatched his sweater from the counter where he'd placed it and passed it to him, then stood with my back to him, blocking him from Mulder's view.

"Mulder..." I began.

"Sir...Walter...why are you protecting him? I don't..." Mulder glanced over my shoulder at Alex and then refocused on my face.

I looked behind me, noting Alex was now wearing the sweater again, arms folded and head down and I turned back to Mulder. I knew Alex didn't care what anybody thought of him except maybe for me, and I certainly shouldn't worry what Mulder's opinion of me was.

"Alex was...my lover," I said firmly. Mulder's eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. I sensed Alex's head jerk up and his eyes fix on the back of my head. "Is, I meant to say. Is my lover," I added.

"But...but...you're...you were married! You dated women...you...you..." Mulder stammered comically and I heard a snort from Alex.

"I didn't say I don't like women," I pointed out.

"No, but...why him?" Mulder exclaimed incredulously. "A traitor...a killer...how can you trust him?"

"Mulder, you can't choose who you fall for. And I do trust him."

"Then you're a fool!" blurted Mulder.

"And you're rapidly outstaying your welcome. I'm going to talk to you this one time and then you're going to leave me in peace." I advanced on him quickly and propelled him out of the room, back to the living room. Alex didn't follow and I closed the door and leaned on it, waiting for Mulder to sit down before I spoke again. He dropped onto the sofa, still clutching my rifle, his eyes wide and face confused.

"Alex was right when he said you'll bring trouble on me if you let people know he's alive," I said. "What you do when you get back to DC is your own business, but think about this before you jump in." I cleared my throat and waited to see if he had anything to say, but he remained silent.

"You remember bringing Alex to my apartment one night? I cuffed him to my balcony and the next day you came back for him. Then after that you and him went to Tunguska."

"I remember," Mulder said at once. "What has that to do with...?"

"Nothing really. Except that two years ago, I walked into my apartment one evening and found Alex in the exact same position, cuffed to my balcony, badly beaten, soaked by sleet and half dead with the onset of pneumonia. I had a message on my machine from the Cigarette Smoking Man, telling me I was to dispose of 'the problem'. If Alex wasn't dead already, I was supposed to kill him and get rid of the body."

"Clearly you didn't." Mulder's brow wrinkled and he nodded slightly as if he was realising what I meant when I said I would have trouble if Alex was discovered to be alive.

"I'm not a cold-blooded killer," I said.

"Not like your...lover, then." Mulder grimaced as he said the word 'lover'.

"I cleaned him up and had him play dead while I dragged him out to my car. Obviously I was being watched. I threw something that could resemble a body into the Potomac and then drove up here. I intended to leave him at a motel somewhere, but he was getting pretty sick and I couldn't do it."

"Wait...was this the 'friend' Scully mentioned that you were taking care of?" Mulder asked. "She didn't seem to know much other than that it was a male friend with...pneumonia."

"Yeah, well I couldn't tell her who, could I?"

"So presumably he recovered and felt...really grateful that you saved him." Another grimace from Mulder.

"It wasn't like that, but things happened. Maybe I'd have been with him afterward if it wouldn't have gotten me killed."

"Shit, you actually care about this guy!"

"Mulder, I'm not going into any more detail," I said firmly.

"But what's he doing here now? Is this about the stuff that he stole from the Bureau? The injury to Baker and...?"

"In part. What you do with this is up to you, but now you know why it'll be a problem to me if you report it. Cancerman won't just let it go if he finds out Alex isn't dead."

"So you're just going to...disappear into the sunset together and live happily ever after?" Mulder said with a slight sneer.

"I'm not sure, but what happens after tonight isn't your concern."

"It will be, if he continues working for Russia. Is he still doing that now? Do you even know?"

"Yes, I know. That job was a one-off," I said.

"Right. You believe him? Sorry, Walter, but Krycek is the least trustworthy guy I know. He'd stab you in the back if he thought it would keep him alive, or get him paid."

"You're going to have to think what you like about that."

"There's something else," Mulder frowned. "What's with the...I don't know, he was kind of hiding something? I caught a glimpse of his left arm and when he had me by the throat, it was like a vice...like steel or...something..."

"It's not your concern," I said at once. "Leave it, Mulder. I've told you what you need to know to make the right decision here. Anything else is Alex's business."

"You'd really give up everything you have to be with him?" he asked, appearing resigned. "Why?"

"What am I giving up? I left the Bureau, I sold my condo and I'll most likely sell this place. I have no ties - no family, no kids, nothing."

"So you plan to go on the run with him?"

"It'd hardly be that." I frowned as I thought that it probably would, in as much as we wouldn't be able to stay in the States, at least not under our own names. "I planned to travel anyway as soon as I wrapped everything up here. Regardless...I found something important to me and I don't plan on throwing it away."

"You mean Krycek." Mulder sighed heavily. "I can't pretend to understand. The things he's done...even to you. When he took the DAT tapes, you were pretty banged up..."

"That was a long time ago and this conversation has gone far enough. You're going to have to decide what you do with this now. I know you talk to our smoking friend every so often so when you do, just think about what I've told you. Do you want my death on your conscience, Mulder?"

"No, of course I don't want that." Another, louder sigh. "As much as it galls me, I won't say a word, not even to Scully. I just hope you're making the right decision here and that it doesn't come back to bite you in the ass."

"Well, you're going to have to let me worry about that." I relaxed slightly. "It's still dark. You can stay until daylight and grab some breakfast before you get on your way. Put the rifle back where you found it."

"Where's my gun?" asked Mulder.

"My room. I'll get it for you."

"What are you going to do then?"

"Get some sleep." I opened the door and went to my room to retrieve Mulder's weapon. The rest of the cabin was in darkness and when I stepped into the bedroom, I immediately noticed Alex in my bed, lying on his right side, apparently asleep. I passed Mulder the gun and then quietly closed the door in his face. Alex didn't move and I stripped my clothes off quickly, found my pajama pants where I'd left them on the floor and fumbled my way into them. The bed creaked and dipped as I slid into it and Alex stirred slightly, muttering under his breath as if he were only half asleep.

"Hey, it's me." I shuffled closer to him, lifting my hand to touch his back which was turned to me. He had removed the sweater again and I felt the fabric of his t-shirt under my palm.

"We...should talk..." Alex mumbled.

"Later. Get some sleep." I removed my hand from his back and slipped my arm around his waist, moving closer until I spooned up against him. I expected to encounter his naked ass, but I realised he was wearing underwear and the notion made me grin.

"What's with the shorts?"

"They're yours. Figured you might not want me tempting you if the arm didn't already put you off."

"Nothing's gonna put me off, Alex," I said softly, bringing my mouth closer to his ear. "I want you. I never stopped."

"You know I have to leave again..."

"I'm going with you."

He sucked his breath in. "I might never be able to come back. At least while Cancerman's alive."

"It doesn't matter."

Alex shifted in my arms, turning onto his back to look up at me. "What happened eighteen months ago..."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated. "It's in the past. You're what I want. You always were, from when you were lying in this bed half dead from pneumonia, needing me."

"I still need you," Alex said.

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." I brushed my lips over his at last and his arm came up and slid around my neck.

"I almost called you. When I was in Japan," he told me.

"In the hospital?"

"Yeah."

"So why didn't you?"

"I doubted you'd even speak to me, which is why I wanted to see you in person. But...I was stuck in that fucking place for three months, like an experiment. I wasn't in control. I thought I'd wake up from the surgery and maybe they'd have taken my good arm. Then it didn't work. I got an infection and they had to start again, do it all again." He shuddered in my arms. "I was doped up on meds to numb the pain and that made it worse, not being in control of my own mind. I just needed...someone."

"Fuck, Alex," I groaned. "I'd have been there if you called me. I wouldn't have hung up on you. I was angry, but I'd have wanted to know why, and I'd have listened. I wasn't able to get you out of my mind. I loved you. I still love you."

"I think...I love you," Alex choked out. "I have...nothing to compare it to...but I don't want to be without you. Ever."

I heard myself groan and I hugged him tighter against me, surprised to feel the dampness of tears on my shoulder. I held him and he clutched at me with both arms, the left cooler and harder than the right. He was trembling and I ran my hand up and down his back, calming him with my touch until he simply lay against me, his face tucked into my neck and both arms still holding onto me.

"Sorry. Not sure where that came from," he said roughly.

"It's okay." I touched my lips to his cheek and tasted salt.

"Where's Mulder?"

"I told him he could stay until daylight. He won't say anything. He's not fond of you, but he doesn't want to see anything happen to me."

"That's good. What did you tell him?"

"Not much. I told him I found you half dead on my balcony and I didn't want to finish you off."

"What about me stealing those files?"

"I didn't say why." I ran my hand up and down the metal arm until I remembered he couldn't feel it and then I continued up to his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you, Walter. I don't know why it bothers me so much. It shouldn't matter, so long as you don't hate it, but it still freaks me out. I hate looking at myself."

"You should try looking at yourself the way I see you," I said softly. "You're beautiful, Alex. All of you."

"I think your mind's going." He tilted his head and his lips caressed mine for a brief moment before he turned his head away quickly and yawned. I pulled his arms from around me and rolled him over so that his back faced me again.

"Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

He didn't speak again. He rested in my arms, his breathing slowing until I knew he was asleep. I was heading that way myself and I closed my eyes, pressing my face into the short cropped hair at the nape of his neck and breathing in the scent of him.

"I love you, Alex," I whispered, knowing that it was the only thing that mattered. When I drifted into sleep a few minutes later, it was with a smile on my face.


	12. Chapter 12 - New Start

**Part 12 - New Start**

When I opened my eyes, daylight was shining through the gap in the drapes and Alex was still sleeping in my arms, his back pressed to my chest. My morning erection rested in the crack of his ass, only partly restrained by the two layers of clothing between us. My hand had found its way under his t-shirt and was resting on firm, warm flesh and I could feel the slow thud of his heart under my palm. My face split into a smile and I brushed my lips against his neck, then nibbled at his skin until he moaned and wriggled against me.

"Walter?"

"Who else would it be?" I grinned.

"Well, I never spent the night with anyone else, so...no one." He turned his head and looked back over his shoulder at me. "I wasn't sure if I'd wake up and find out I dreamed this."

"It's definitely real." I rolled my hips, rubbing my cock against his ass for a brief moment before I remembered we had a guest. "Damn it, Mulder's here."

Alex chuckled and turned onto his back. "I need a shower anyway. And a toothbrush." He grimaced then and ran his tongue along his teeth. "Dog breath."

"No one could ever accuse you of being romantic, Alex," I teased.

"Romance is for saps."

"Right." I pressed my lips against his forehead and pulled away, sitting up and throwing back the bed covers.

"I could get used to this." Alex stretched both arms and yawned, then folded his hands behind his head. It seemed strange to see him act so naturally with two arms, when I'd only known him intimately with one.

"You'd better," I told him. "I'm going nowhere. Except the bathroom."

"Me first? Need a piss too," he smirked.

"Okay, I'll go make some coffee. Cover yourself up though." I eyed the erection straining at the front of the shorts Alex was wearing and jerked my head in the direction of the other room.

"Possessive, Walter?"

"You have no idea." Usually I wasn't, but I didn't like the idea of anyone else seeing him in that state, particularly not Mulder. I swung out of the bed and grabbed a robe to cover my own arousal, then left the room, still smiling. In just a few short hours, being with Alex like this felt so good...so normal. This time there was no goodbye lurking around the corner and I could just enjoy being with him, getting to know him more, loving him. Beaming, I strode into the kitchen and filled the kettle.

There was no sound from the other bedroom or the living room and I looked out of the window hopefully, wondering if Mulder had left, but his car was out there parked behind my truck. I glanced at the clock and noticed with some surprise that it was approaching eleven. All of us must have been exhausted after the drama during the night.

I didn't have a great deal in the way of supplies, but I dug out bacon from the freezer, which was probably past its best after so long frozen. Throwing it into the microwave to defrost, I opened tins of beans and dropped several slices of frozen bread into the toaster. I was stirring three mugs of coffee when Alex appeared, wet-haired and wearing his own jeans with one of my shirts.

"That was quick."

"Figured you'd want to get in there and deal with your own dog breath."

"Jerk. I'll be five minutes." I hurried to the bathroom, used the toilet, washed my face and cleaned my teeth and was out again within minutes. I could take a shower later, when Mulder was gone, and hopefully entice Alex into sharing it with me.

I returned to the food, relieved that Alex hadn't made any attempt to begin cooking it. I remembered his disastrous attempt at making toast two years before, trying to blame it on the toaster. With the bacon frying, beans warming in a pan and toast browning, I leaned back against the counter and looked at Alex. It was difficult for me to believe that he was here with me again, after so long wishing it could be true. I reached out to him and grabbed his metal hand, tugging him close.

"I missed you so much," I said.

"I missed you too, Walter. You know that." He leaned against me and draped his arm around my neck. "Is this really what you want?"

"A life with you? Absolutely. Didn't you hear what I said to you last night?"

"Yeah, I just...I don't know, things were pretty fraught last night."

"Not when we got away from Mulder. I meant it, Alex. I love you. Wherever you go from here, I'll be with you."

His face split into a smile and his cheeks dimpled. "I never felt like this."

"Me neither." I hugged him tighter, staring into his green eyes until he lowered the lids and leaned in to kiss me. Our lips met and caressed lazily, immediately causing my pulse to quicken and my cock to twitch. I wanted him so badly and it was all I could do not to thrust my tongue into his mouth and tear the shirt from his body, but I restrained myself and merely continued with the gentle kisses until we were interrupted by Mulder clearing his throat. Alex removed his lips from mine and tucked his face into my neck, laughing quietly.

"Morning, Mulder," I said, eyeing the uncomfortable looking man over Alex's shoulder. "Want some breakfast?"

Alex's body shook with laughter and he pulled away from me, automatically drawing the cuff of my shirt down over his left hand.

"Um...well...thanks," Mulder answered, tugging a hand through his hair, eyes darting about in an effort to avoid looking at either of us. I passed him a coffee and turned to flip the bacon. "I'll...uh...get out of your hair right after this," he said. "Where are you planning on going?"

"You think we're gonna tell you that?" Alex replied, lifting an eyebrow.

"Probably not." Sighing, Mulder sipped his coffee. "It's not easy to get my head around...this."

"What? Me and Walter?" grinned Alex. "I'm sure you've seen a lot stranger things in your time...Spooky."

"Alex," I frowned. Alex just grinned wider and picked up his own coffee.

Mulder didn't say much for the next fifteen minutes, while he finished his coffee and ate a bacon sandwich. He seemed desperate to leave and he gave me a brief hand shake and told me good luck, before heading out to his car and disappearing.

"You think he'll tell on us?" Alex asked.

"No. I told you he won't. He might want to see you behind bars, but he doesn't want Cancerman coming after me. Let's just forget about him now and figure out what we're going to do."

"I need to be out of here pretty quickly," Alex told me. "Two or three days. I don't expect you to just up and leave, but..." He shrugged and sighed. "Much as I want you to."

"It won't take me long to sort things out," I said. "The condo's sold. I'm going to auction off the furniture and anything personal that I can't bring with me, I'll give to Sharon."

"Your wife?"

"We've been divorced for years. She's a good friend, though."

"Does she know about me?"

"No, but she will. I can tell her I found someone I want to be with at least and that we're going travelling. She'll be happy for me. She remarried last year."

Alex nodded. "Does she know you're into guys?"

"I think she suspects. We never actually talked about it. So, other than that, I need to sell my car and do something about this place. I don't really want to part with it. I was thinking I'd hang onto it, in case we ever come back."

"I'd like it if you kept it," Alex said. "It's got some good memories."

"Yeah, it does." I immediately remembered the first time I touched him. At the time I'd been thinking about it for days. I'd returned from a fishing trip to find him in the shower. After those few desperate moments, we hadn't been able to keep our hands off of one another and I'd longed to fuck him, but known that I couldn't.

"Wanna go back to bed and make some more?" Alex grinned.

"I need to shower. How about we make some in the bathroom?"

"That works for me." He walked into the bathroom ahead of me and when I joined him, he was sitting on the toilet lid, still dressed. I had an idea of something I wanted to do, that I'd thought about when I realised how he still viewed himself and I wondered if I'd be pushing him too fast if I tried it right away. I thought about it some more while I scrubbed myself vigorously in the shower. Alex stayed where he was and watched until I'd made a cursory attempt at drying myself and stood naked in front of him. He lifted his hand toward me and I grasped it and pulled him up.

"Come here, I want to try something." I drew him out of the room and back to the bedroom.

"Something new?"

"In a way."

"I thought we were doing it in the bathroom?"

"I changed my mind." I opened the door of the wardrobe and pushed it wide, revealing the long mirror on the inside of the door. If you stood far enough from it, it was possible to see the entire body in it. I manoeuvred Alex in front of it and stood behind him, making him look at himself.

"What are you doing?" His brows furrowed in the mirror.

"Just trust me, okay?" I gave his shoulders a squeeze and ran my hands down his arms.

"Walter..."

I brushed my lips against his ear and slid my arms around him, quickly unfastening the buttons of the shirt and feeling him tense against me. He averted his eyes from the mirror and lowered his head as I pulled the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it aside. I watched his reflection as his jaw stiffened and he struggled to turn around in my arms. I tightened both arms around his body and held him still.

"Why are you doing this?" he gritted out.

"I want you to see what I see. I know you've faced much worse things than this and you've been alone. I'm here now. I'm not doing this to hurt you, Alex," I said.

"I know that." He blew his breath out between pursed lips and leaned back against me. "Okay." His eyes lifted again slowly and met mine in the mirror. I felt a tremor run through his body and I touched my lips to his cheek.

"What is it that makes you so uncomfortable about this?" I asked, stroking my hand back and forth between wrist and elbow of the metal arm.

"It's not this arm in particular, just the fact that I'm not...whole. I look like a freak."

"No, you don't. I never thought that, whether you were wearing the old plastic arm or none. And now this one. You're just you...strong, sexy, beautiful." I loosened my hold on him and ran one hand over his chest and down to his belly, feeling the muscles jump under my touch. "You turn me on like no one else." I was half hard and I altered my position, pressing my cock against his ass so he could feel it through his jeans. "I love looking at you," I went on. "And touching you. I wouldn't change anything about you."

"Don't tell me you wouldn't rather have me with two arms."

"You have two arms and even if you didn't have this..." I entwined my fingers with the metal ones. "I fell for you like this...got to know every inch of you...love every inch of you." I let go of his hand again and caressed his belly, then unfastened his jeans. I needed two hands to push the tight fabric down over his thighs. He wasn't hard and I hadn't expected him to be, but when I straightened up and rested against his back again, I felt him starting to relax. His heart was racing and he gyrated slightly, rubbing his ass against my erection. I ducked my head and pressed my mouth against his neck where it joined his shoulder, sinking my teeth in and sucking hard on the firm flesh until he groaned and swore. I slid my hand lower and cupped him, caressing his soft cock and his balls in my palm until he began to respond, the organ filling slowly and pushing into my hand.

"Damn it, Walter, you still manage to get me hard now?" He grinned wryly and his body relaxed more. I released him briefly and ran my hands up his body again to his armpits, then pushed both arms up until they lifted above his head and curled back around my neck. I turned my head and placed a line of kisses along the metal bicep as my hands made their way back to his groin, one tugging gently at his balls while the other formed a loose fist around his cock and began to pump lazily.

"Remember the first time we did this?" I murmured.

"We were in the bathroom."

"Yeah. I'd been desperate to touch you for days...kept trying to talk myself out of it...telling myself I shouldn't want you so much. You made me so fucking hard, Alex. That day I was out fishing, I spent the whole time with a hard-on and then I came back and you were in the shower and I couldn't keep my hands off any more."

"I wanted you to touch me. I didn't think you would. Who I was...the arm...what had happened to me."

"None of that mattered in the end. None of it matters now. I love you," I said, lifting my eyes again and meeting his green ones. "I love every inch of you." I quickened the pace of my hand on his cock and he groaned, his arms gripping the back of my neck tighter. His eyes slid shut and I nudged his jaw with my nose. "Keep your eyes open."

"Walter..."

"I want you to watch yourself come. See what I see," I said again.

He groaned, halfway between arousal and frustration, but his eyes stayed open, sweeping up and down his own body and then fixing on my hands. I took the one hand off his balls and resumed stroking his belly and chest while I jerked him off with the other. It took longer than it had in the past and I knew he was still struggling with the image before him, but eventually I felt his shaft begin to pulse in my hand. His thighs trembled, his ass grinding against my cock as he spurted through my fingers and onto the carpet. His head rolled back onto my shoulder as he growled out a string of Russian curses and his arms slid from around my neck and lowered to his sides. I released him and led him to the bed where he collapsed breathlessly onto the mattress. I joined him quickly, resting my hand on his chest and feeling the rapid tattoo of his heart.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," he panted.

"I didn't want to push you into doing that, but..."

"It's okay," he repeated. "I get why you did. It's not a quick fix, Walter, but it did make me see things differently."

"Good." I edged closer and nudged him with my erection. "Are you going to do something about this now?"

"That's a stupid question, Walter, I've been dying to get my hands on you."

"Hands, huh? You think you can jerk me off with this one?" I asked, grasping the metal fist resting in front of me.

"I've never tried. I didn't think feeling this on my cock would be much of a turn on."

"So try. I want to see what it feels like." I uncurled the fingers and guided the hand to my throbbing organ, folding them around it.

"I might crush you," Alex said.

"You won't. Just a little tighter." I removed my hand and watched as the silver-grey fingers closed more around me. I shivered from the feel of it - cool, smooth, a little strange. Alex snatched it away from me immediately.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Please? Just try."

"I didn't have you down as kinky, Walter."

"It's just you, Alex, that's all," I murmured. "Come on, my balls ache. I haven't come in days."

He laughed softly and after a brief pause, he lowered his hand again and wrapped it around my cock. "Is this okay?"

"Tighter."

The cool fingers closed fractionally until they applied gentle pressure to my length and I groaned in appreciation. "That feels good. I missed having you touch me, Alex." I bucked my hips a little, pushing myself through his fist. "Mmm, I'm not gonna last long."

"I'm beginning to think it's not me who's the freak here," Alex teased.

"Keep thinking that."

His hand began to move and he lowered his head to rest against my shoulder, watching himself stroke me. I watched too, fascinated by the sight of my heated flesh sliding through the metal. It glided smoothly, easier than it would have in a fist of flesh and bone, and my orgasm began to approach faster even than I expected.

"Fuck, Alex, I'm gonna really disgrace myself here," I panted.

"Well, I guess that's a good thing." He glanced up at me and grinned. "If I can make you come with this, it can't be that bad, right?"

"Watch what you're doing." I braced my feet on the mattress and began to buck upward rhythmically, fucking his fist as he quickened his pace. I clenched my own fists and ground my teeth as my balls tightened and heat flooded out from my groin, my spine tingling.

"Christ...almost there..." I gasped.

"Come for me, Walter." They were the same words I had said to him a long time ago and now it acted like a trigger. My cock jerked and shot its load onto my chest in thick streams. Alex's hand slowed and I watched as the last drops oozed from me and dribbled over his knuckles. He released me and wiped his fingers on the sheet, then turned his head to look at me. I grasped the metal hand in mine and slid my other arm around him, running my fingers lightly up and down his spine.

"I'm gonna need another shower. Want to share?"

He grinned and brushed his lips over mine. Then he drew back and bit into his lip before lowering his head so that I couldn't see his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He paused for a moment. "Do you...do you still want to fuck me, Walter?"

My spent cock twitched against my thigh and my slowing pulse quickened again. "Yes, I do, but it depends on you."

"I wasn't ready before. I am now," he said quietly. "Just so you know, after...what happened to me, I got tested. I'm clean."

"That's good. You don't have anything to worry about with me either." I'd never had sex without protection except with Sharon, and she'd been a virgin.

Alex lifted his head and his smile appeared again. "I guess we should go shopping, then."

"Shopping?" I frowned.

"Yeah, there's no lube here. I...um...I used what was left when I was here last winter." He laughed wickedly. "I jerked off with it, imagined you were with me."

"And you call me kinky?" I pushed him off me and sat up. "Okay, let's get moving."

"Walter..."

"What?"

"Thanks. For trying to help me with this." He raised the metal hand to indicate what he meant.

"Did it help any?"

"Yeah, more so when you had me jerk you off with it. I guess it made it seem more like me than just a tool."

"Well, it is you and I love all of you." I was relieved that my idea had a positive effect rather than the opposite. When I'd made him stand in front of the mirror and look at himself, I'd been concerned that maybe I wasn't doing the right thing, but already he seemed more accepting of it.

We returned to the bathroom and cleaned up with wash cloths rather than shower again. In another thirty minutes we were in the truck on the way to Williamsport and I was making a mental note to buy supplies to last a couple of days while we were at the cabin. I thought about the last time we had been into town together and I'd bought clothes for Alex and microwave meals to last him for the week until I returned. We'd had lunch together in an Italian restaurant and I'd imagined it was a date and what it might be like if we could do that without knowing we would soon be parting. We'd only just had breakfast, but it hadn't been particularly substantial.

"Do you want to have a late lunch before we come back?" I asked.

"You asking me on a date, Walter?" Alex grinned.

"Yes."

His grin widened. "Would you believe me if I told you I've never been on an actual date? Except for when we had lunch before and that wasn't really a date, was it?"

"I was wishing it was." I smiled back at him. "Shall we go to that same place?"

"Yeah. We could have spaghetti again. I barely tasted it last time, I was too busy thinking about saying goodbye."

"Same place, same food? I thought you said romance was for saps," I reminded him.

"In my defense, I'd say you're turning me soft." He slid along the seat to my side until his thigh pressed against mine. I took one hand off the wheel and slid my arm around him. "Is it possible this could actually work out?" Alex asked. "You and me? I want it to, I just...can't imagine. I've never done this...relationships. I keep thinking I'll fuck up and push you away."

"You won't. Just be yourself."

"I barely know what that is. I've spent so much of my life being someone else, taking on different identities, doing stuff most people would never do, avoiding letting my feelings get caught up in anything."

"I think how you are now is the real you," I said. "I got glimpses of him two years ago, when you weren't trying to act tough and pretend you didn't care about anything. My Alex is clever and funny and sexy and...dare I say sweet?"

"At least you didn't say romantic." He laughed and rested his head against my shoulder. "What about the other stuff? Things I've done."

"That wasn't you. You were Cancerman's puppet. You know what he would have done to you if you didn't carry out his orders and you'd be dead now if I hadn't ignored them. I guess it's the same with Russia or whoever else you've worked for. They pay for a job and you do it. We all do it, whether it's pushing a pen all day or...anything else. I just look at it like you were doing a job that you didn't have a choice about and now it's finished."

"I don't think anyone else would see it like that," Alex sighed.

"It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, it's just you and me. A new start for both of us, wherever we end up."

"Walter, it won't be that easy. We can't be Walter and Alex, except to each other. Even if we're on the other side of the world. It'd be too much of a risk."

"I don't really care who I am on paper," I said at once. "It's a small price to pay."

"But are you okay with that, really? I thought you were a law abiding citizen."

"I was until I watched those tapes of you at the Bureau and acted like I didn't recognise you."

Alex stiffened and grimaced and I quickly told him what had already run through my mind many times, when I'd been with him before and since he arrived at the cabin again and told me he felt the same way I did.

"Look, I've thought about this and yes, I would prefer not to be breaking the rules, but I already accepted a long time ago that compromising myself was less important than making sure you were safe. I can handle a fake identity or two if it means I get to be with you."

"Okay." Alex nodded and relaxed again. "So long as you know what you're getting yourself into. I don't want you to resent me some day in the future."

"I won't," I said firmly. "So, do you have an idea on where we'll be going?"

"Yes, but I need to sort a few things out first. I'll let you know when you've tied everything up and you're ready to go, if you can trust me."

"I trust you," I replied.

"I love you," Alex answered.

I dropped a kiss onto the top of his head and then pulled my arm free to turn the truck into a parking lot. I had barely noticed that we had already reached Williamsport, too intent on the nature of the conversation. Alex had more insecurities than just how he felt about his arm and he was beginning to open up about everything for the first time. It just made me love him more and I couldn't wait to get the next few days out of the way and start my life with him, wherever that may be.


	13. Chapter 13 - First Time

**Part 13 - First Time**

We headed straight for the drugstore when we left the truck and I bought two small tubes of lube. Alex picked up a couple of essentials too and it was only then that I realised he had arrived without so much as a bag.

"How did you get to the cabin?" I asked him as we wandered along the main street of the town.

"I had a truck drop me on the road that passes the woods and hiked in."

"You didn't bring anything with you?"

"I left it in a motel. I didn't really think I'd be staying. I hoped, but..." He shrugged and smiled. "I didn't expect you to be so quick to forgive me."

"We can pick it up on the way back," I said.

We spent maybe an hour just wandering around, window shopping and stocking up on a couple of food items. I didn't want to take too much back to the cabin, when neither of us would be there more than a day or two. We put the purchases in the truck before making our way to the Italian restaurant we had eaten in before. It was open all day, but currently empty due to it being too late for lunch and too early for dinner. We were shown to a table for two by a waiter I could swear was gay and I was surprised when Alex shot him a glare that would curdle milk. I took my seat and gave the red-faced man a smile as he handed me a menu. He walked off to get us some drinks and I leaned across the table toward Alex, puzzled.

"What's with you?"

"Little fucker was giving you the eye."

"If he's looking at anyone, I doubt it's me. You're the most attractive one here," I said mildly.

"I'm not his type."

"Possessive, aren't you?" I grinned.

"Sorry." Alex dropped his eyes to the menu and I chuckled, grasping his hand in mine.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. Anyway, since he's gay and there's no one else in here, it won't matter if I do this, will it?" I removed the menu from his other hand and put it aside before leaning closer over the small table and brushing my lips over his. I had never been very affectionate in public, not even with Sharon, and I was well aware that even in the Nineties it wasn't a good idea to be too obvious with a man, but there seemed no risk here. Alex's lips pressed harder against mine and his hand tightened painfully on my fingers until I was forced to give a grunt of discomfort.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Alex drew back and let go of my hand, smirking a little. "I don't know my own strength."

The waiter returned a minute later with our drinks and took our order for spaghetti and meatballs, the same meal we'd eaten two years before. The menu had barely changed and I wondered if that same waiter had been there the last time. I hadn't noticed much then, too intent on trying to suppress the feelings I had for Alex, knowing we would be saying goodbye.

We kept the conversation light as we ate, finishing the meal with tiramisu and coffee and holding hands across the table. When the waiter returned to remove our dessert dishes, it was Alex he smiled at, whispering something quietly before he walked away.

"What did he say?" I asked, surprised that Alex grinned rather than glared.

"That we make a handsome couple and I'm a lucky guy. I am lucky, Walter. A few days ago, I didn't expect to be doing this."

"Me neither. There were plenty of times over the past two years that I wished for it." I released his hand and pulled out my wallet to pay for the meal, including a generous tip for the waiter. Then we returned to the truck and drove back to the cabin, taking a brief detour to collect Alex's bag from the motel.

I didn't miss the way Alex gradually grew tense on the short journey and afterward, when he went into the kitchen to make more coffee. He paced and fidgeted and kept out of my reach until I cornered him against the counter, resting one hand either side of him.

"What's the matter?" It was obvious enough that he was nervous, probably expecting me to drag him into bed and fuck him right away. I could feel his heart racing when my chest rested against his.

"Nothing. I...uh...I just...I could use some more coffee."

"I'd rather have a beer," I said. "There are a couple left over from last time. They should be okay. You want to watch a movie or something?"

"Sure. I just thought you'd want to...uh...you'd be in more of a hurry to make use of the lube."

"I'm not in any rush." I took my hands off the counter and rested them on his back instead, caressing the hard muscles in his shoulders through the fabric of my shirt. "I know this is a big deal for you."

"Yeah, I guess it is." He relaxed against me, his head on my shoulder. "I'm being ridiculous."

"No, you're not. It's understandable you'd be anxious. We'll take our time, and if you don't like it, I'll stop and we won't do it."

"You're too good for me," Alex sighed.

"I just love you, that's all." I gave him a tighter hug and pressed my lips against his temple, then pulled away to get the beers from the refrigerator, hoping they hadn't gone out of date. "Go choose a movie," I added.

When I joined Alex in the living room, he had selected an action movie and was putting the tape into the player, switching on the television. I placed the beers on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. It was a movie I'd seen several times, but I didn't really care what I watched. Most of my attention was on Alex anyway, as he sat beside me, legs folded in front of him, sipping his beer. He held the bottle in his right hand, lifting it to his lips every so often and my eyes continually drifted to him, noting the way his throat bobbed as he drank and the way he automatically pulled the cuff of my shirt down over his metal hand from time to time. He was sitting on my right and eventually I reached out and grasped the cool metal fingers, lacing mine through them and tugging the hand into my lap. Alex carefully curled his fingers around mine and the rest of his body visibly relaxed. Half way into the movie, he changed position, facing me and pressing closer, his lips teasing my ear and neck until I turned to meet his kisses.

I slid my arms around Alex, my lips caressing his, the movie forgotten. I was surprised when his tongue suddenly thrust urgently into my mouth, his lips crushing mine against my teeth and a groan of need rumbling up from his chest. My tongue fought with his, stroking over it and pushing back into his mouth to taste more of him. He moved again without breaking the kiss, straddling my thighs and grinding himself against me. Instantly I was hard, my cock straining against the front of my pants, desperate for contact with Alex's body. I removed my hands from his back to unfasten his shirt, but he was already doing exactly that, metal fingers working efficiently with human ones to release the buttons and shrug the garment off of his shoulders. It was only then that he tore his lips away from mine, gasping for breath and beginning to fumble with the zipper on his jeans.

"Fuck, I'm so hard," he groaned, releasing his cock at last with a sigh. The wet tip bumped against my belly and smeared precum onto my shirt. I wrapped a hand around it and gave it a few slow pumps while Alex began undressing me. It occurred to me that we would be more comfortable in the bedroom, but I didn't suggest it. Alex was horny and eager and I didn't want to spoil the moment and risk making him tense again. I continued to stroke his cock until I was forced to let go to slide my arm out of my shirt sleeve. When the shirt landed on the floor, Alex got to his feet and wriggled out of his jeans, quickly removed his socks and then knelt on the carpet in front of me. He had my pants open in seconds and I lifted my butt up so that he could pull both pants and underwear down and off. My socks followed and I expected Alex to join me on the sofa again, but he stayed where he was, pushing my tights apart and caressing them, one at a time with his hand. He continued with that for a moment and then the metal hand joined in, stroking lightly over my heated flesh and making me shiver and groan.

"Come up here so I can touch you too," I said, but Alex shook his head.

"I can wait. I want to taste you. I've been thinking about it for too long." He bent and captured the head of my cock in his mouth and anything else I might have said was cut off by a louder groan. I closed my eyes and simply felt, as his warm wet mouth engulfed me, cool metal fingers carefully closing around the base of my shaft and warm ones cupping my balls.

"Christ, Alex, I won't last long," I gasped. His mouth felt so good on me. I hadn't forgotten how it felt, but it had been much too long. I bucked my hips up, pushing my tip into his throat and he swallowed around me, then began bobbing his head, letting me fuck his mouth while his hands teased and caressed, pushing me towards orgasm much too fast. He quickened his pace and I squirmed and swore, my hands curling into fists at my sides and my hips rising from the sofa in an effort to push myself deeper into his throat. When I came, his hands slowed and his mouth continued tugging firmly, his throat working around me as he swallowed my load.

"Oh, fuck, Alex! Stop!" I cried eventually, my body a mass of over-sensitive nerve-endings. Alex released my cock from his mouth with an audible pop and rose to join me on the sofa, grinning smugly. He sat facing me again, his erection quivering against his belly. Much to my surprise, he wrapped the metal hand around it and stroked himself, his eyes fixed on my face.

"How does it feel?" I asked breathlessly.

"Better than I expected. You seemed to like it, so..." He shrugged and his eyes sparkled.

"Well, don't make yourself come. I want to be the one to do that, when I get my breath back." I leaned down to grab my pants from the floor, removing the small drugstore bag from the pocket. Alex looked at me uncertainly for a moment and then took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

"You know me well enough to know it'll take me a pretty long while to even think about getting hard again," I said. "We're just gonna do what we did before."

"Okay." He gave me a small smile and I lifted my hand to his neck, curling it around the nape and pulling him closer. He looked almost vulnerable and much younger than his twenty-eight years. I brushed my lips gently over his and then traced a line of small kisses along his jaw to his ear.

"I won't hurt you, Alex," I murmured.

"I know."

I glanced down, noticing his erection had subsided and I changed my mind about moving to the bedroom. The mood was interrupted anyway and I decided to try to make this as much like the first time I properly touched him as I could. I got to my feet and pulled him up and he followed me silently into my room. It was already dark and I switched on the small lamp beside the bed, rather than flood the room with light from the one on the ceiling. Alex stretched out on the bed, lying on his right side and I joined him quickly. I slid my arm around him and drew him against me so that our bodies lightly touched, then began running my fingertips up and down his spine while my lips lazily caressed his. Occasionally my hand drifted lower to stroke his ass, squeezing the firm buttocks and sliding lower to the backs of his thighs. My mouth left his to nibble at his neck and when I bit gently into the point where his neck and shoulder joined, he groaned and pressed himself more firmly against me. His cock slowly rose again between us until it was digging into my stomach, but I ignored it for the moment. I rolled him onto his back and explored his chest with hands and mouth, sucking and biting on each nipple, firmly massaging his pectorals and then his abs.

"Oh, God, Walter," he groaned eventually.

"Feel good?" I queried, touching my lips to the leaking tip of his cock.

"You did this before. That first day. No one had ever touched me like this...not before or since."

"You came so hard. I love making you come." I rose and moved down the bed a little, pushing his thighs apart, running my hands up and down the insides of them until he spread them wider and pulled his knees up. I crouched between them and bent over, teasing his quivering shaft with my tongue while I uncapped one of the tubes of lube and coated my fingers. Alex writhed and moaned, fists clenched at his sides, eyes closed. I grasped his cock in my left hand and drew the tip into my mouth, sucking gently as I began stroking between his legs with lubed fingers. I applied light pressure as I traced the ridge behind his balls, gradually working my way back to his hole and circling it. He groaned and swore, but stayed relaxed, his body shivering with arousal. I ducked my head lower, taking half of his length into my mouth while I slowly worked the tip of one finger into him, groaning around the mouthful as I felt the tight heat of him gripping my digit.

Alex muttered something in Russian and breathed out audibly. I pressed deeper, slipping my finger past the tight ring of muscle as far as I could reach. I withdrew an inch or so and then pushed back in, allowing his cock to slip from my mouth.

"Okay?"

"Fuck...yes."

"Keep breathing."

"Uh huh."

I took him in my mouth again, bobbing my head slowly and holding him down with one hand as he tried to buck up into my throat. I continued pumping my finger in and out of him, feeling him clench around me, gradually beginning to grind himself onto me. I withdrew the finger almost to the tip and carefully worked a second back in with it. Alex held still, taking exaggerated breaths, but making no sign that he was uncomfortable. I shuddered as the moist heat of him gripped me, imagining what it would feel like around my cock. I bent lower over him, allowing him to fill my mouth and throat while I curled my fingers within him, searching for the small bump of his prostate.

"Fuck!" His hips came up off the bed and his shaft thrust harder into my throat, almost causing me to gag. I pulled off a little, chuckling as I massaged the gland repeatedly, then withdrew my fingers almost to the tips before thrusting them back in.

"More! Fuck!" Alex growled. His body jerked erratically as he attempted to drive himself into my mouth and at the same time, fuck himself on my fingers. He was close - I could feel him tightening around me, the base of his shaft thickening and beginning to pulse in my hand. I drove my fingers deeper, brushing his prostate again and then keeping them there, bumping it repeatedly while I pumped him with the other hand and sucked harder. He came in rapid spurts, his cock pulsing and shooting into my throat, his ass clenching on my fingers and gripping them tight within him. I sucked and swallowed, only releasing him when his hand pushed at my head and he breathlessly swore in Russian. I pulled my fingers out of him slowly and wiped the excess lube on the sheet, then moved out from between his legs and lay down at his side again.

"Fuck," he panted. "So fucking good."

"It didn't hurt?"

"No. Your cock's a lot bigger than your fingers, though." He laughed breathlessly.

"Well, like I said, we'll take our time."

His green eyes opened slowly and met mine. "I'm not sure I could be this patient."

"I just want to make sure you enjoy it, Alex," I told him.

"What if...I can't do it?"

"Then we'll just do this."

"I love you, Walter." He closed his eyes again and slid an arm around me. I hugged him and kissed the top of his head.

"I love you too, Alex," I answered.

It was still only early evening, but we must have fallen asleep in the aftermath of orgasm. I opened my eyes to find the room still lit by the lamp and Alex sleeping in my arms. He had turned over and his back was resting against my chest, his erection bumping my arm where it lay across his stomach. I moved my hand and grasped it, giving it a few gentle tugs while I moved my hips just enough to line my cock up with the crack of his ass and rest it there.

"Mmm." Alex stirred and pushed himself into my hand, then back against my groin.

"How do you feel?" I murmured.

"Horny."

I laughed quietly in his ear. "Sore?"

"No."

"Can I...?"

"Yeah."

I barely moved, just enough to reach the lube and put a small gap between us. My heart was racing and my cock ached. He was barely awake and completely relaxed and I wondered if now we could move things forward, even just a little. I coated my fingers in lube and reached down, pressing one into him. It slid in reasonably easily and he groaned and moved his hand to capture his cock. He stroked himself while I pushed a second finger in and explored slowly, scissoring them a little to stretch him. He made no protest or sign of discomfort and I carried on, allowing my fingertips to brush his prostate a few times until he was squirming and moaning, his hand moving faster on his cock. I withdrew my fingers almost to the tips, added a third and began to work them back into him. His hand stilled and he grunted uncomfortably.

"Want me to stop?"

"Uh...no."

He felt impossibly tight. My three fingers were pressed together inside him, squeezed by his muscles so that I could barely move them. I kept my hand still, letting him get used to the invasion while he breathed deep, no longer touching himself. His cock had softened and slight tremors ran through his body, but gradually he began to relax again, his tight muscle lessening its grip around my knuckles. I moved my fingers carefully, withdrawing half an inch and then pressing back in. His fist unclenched and he tilted his head back to rest against my shoulder.

"Keep going," he said.

I continued for several minutes, pausing once to add more lube and gradually he relaxed more and began to move with me, pressing himself back onto my hand while his cock slowly filled until it was half hard. When I eventually pulled my fingers out and covered my erection in lube, nervousness filled me too and my hand shook as I put the small tube aside and grasped my cock to guide it. I was worried I'd hurt him or that he wouldn't like it and I hesitated as I lined myself up. I had fucked men before, but they had all been experienced. I'd never been someone's first time and for Alex, it would be harder even than that after what had happened to him. I took a breath and pushed in, feeling the head of my cock gradually become surrounded by tight, wet heat. Just as a groan of pleasure burst from me, Alex pulled off me with a hiss and rolled over.

"It's okay," I told him at once, pushing my longing aside. "We don't have to..."

"I want to, I just can't do it like that," he said firmly. "I need to see you."

I considered taking him on his back, but then changed my mind and sat up, turning to rest my back against the head of the bed. "Come and sit on my lap."

Alex hesitated, rolling his left shoulder and wincing. I realised he'd been sleeping on that side, which he had said he always avoided and I waited patiently while a few more seconds passed, wondering if he was exaggerating the discomfort to delay impaling himself. I was on the point of suggesting again that we stop, but suddenly he was on his knees, swinging one leg over my thighs and seating himself on my lap, his cock half hard and sticking out at right angles to his body. I rested my hands on his waist and looked up at his face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." His teeth sank into his lower lip and he stretched both arms out, gripping the top of the bed head either side of me. His right arm shook slightly as he rose up on his knees, shuffling forward a little so that his cock brushed against my belly. I took my hands off him and grasped my own, angling it just right and feeling for his hole with the other hand to guide myself. He held still, breathing out slowly as I pushed the tip of my cock into him, rocking my hips up until the head slipped past the tight ring of muscle and seated itself inside him. Then I moved my hands to his hips to support him.

"Take your time," I said. I let my ass sink back into the mattress and Alex lowered himself just enough to keep the head of my cock from slipping out of him. His thighs were shaking and I was startled by the sound of wood splintering to my right. I glanced to the side as he loosened his metal fist from the crushed portion of the bed head.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, half laughing.

"It's alright." I looked up at him again, locking my eyes onto his, fighting to keep my own open as I felt him begin to lower himself slowly, his tight heat gradually taking more and more of me in until roughly half of my length was surrounded by him.

"Oh, God," he breathed. "You're fucking big, Walter."

"Don't do this just to please me, Alex," I murmured.

"I'm not." He lifted up a little, pulling off until only the head of my cock remained in his ass. Then he let out a long sigh as he lowered himself again, continuing until his butt met my thighs. The bed head splintered some more and this time he groaned in discomfort, but stayed where he was. I moved one hand to his softening cock and grasped it, rubbing my thumb over the tip and stroking it slowly back to life. Alex sat still, panting softly, his ass clenching and relaxing around me and his eyes still fixed on my face. A minute or two ticked past and his cock swelled in my hand while mine twitched inside him, desperate for more friction, but I held still determinedly, waiting for him to move. I knew it must be causing him at least a little pain although his face wasn't giving much away.

Suddenly he began to move, lifting himself up just an inch or two before pushing back down with a soft grunt, teeth clenched. I continued pumping his erection firmly, my other hand on his waist. He let out another long, shaky breath and then at last he was riding me, thighs taut, ass gripping me impossibly tightly as he slid up and down on my length. I groaned with pleasure, my cock throbbing inside the moist heat of him. I could feel every contour and muscle inside him and at last I began to move with him, rocking my pelvis in time with him pushing himself down onto me. My heart slammed against my ribs and I breathed hard, beads of sweat breaking out all over my body. He felt so good, better than I could have imagined and I knew it wasn't only his tightness, his heat, the fact that we were doing it bareback, but because I loved him so much and he was giving himself to me despite a bad experience and then being forced into it and badly hurt.

I worked his cock harder, knowing I wasn't going to last much longer and not wanting to leave him behind. He took his hands off the ruined head of the bed and rested them on my shoulders instead, gripping firmly as he moved faster, butt slapping against my thighs. He was panting loudly, muttering an inventive string of curses in both English and Russian, head now thrown back and eyes closed. I could feel his orgasm building as he moved faster, his cock thickening in my hand. I slid my other hand around to his back and pulled him closer, changing the angle of penetration just slightly to apply more pressure to his prostate. He yelled out in surprise, metal fingers digging painfully into my shoulder as his shaft began to jerk in my hand and his ass tightened around me. His body shook and his movements became clumsy and awkward as he continued attempting to ride me while he spurted onto my chest and belly. I was almost there and I released his cock, holding both of his hips instead to pull him down harder, burying my length deep as I began to erupt. I pulsed repeatedly, emptying deep inside him and wondering if the guttural yell that filled the room had really come from me.

Alex sagged against me, chest heaving, droplets of sweat dripping from his face onto my shoulder. I slid both arms around him and held him tight, my hands slipping on his damp flesh. My cock softened and slowly slipped from him along with a small puddle of my fluid which dribbled between my thighs. Neither of us spoke and after a minute, Alex pulled free and slid off me, a whimper escaping his lips before he silenced himself. I lay down too and touched his face.

"I hurt you," I sighed.

"Not really. I'm a bit sore. I'm okay."

"I love you," I said. "That was so good."

"I love you too, Walter," he murmured. "I love you fucking me."

"It didn't put you off then," I teased.

"I want more. Just...in a few days." He grinned wryly. "Guess I just need more practice."

"I'm sure I can help with that."

His smile disappeared and he looked at me more seriously. "Thank you, Walter."

"What for?" I was still touching his face and I brushed my thumb over his cheekbone, then slid my hand around the back of his neck.

"Taking care of me."


	14. Chapter 14 - Secrets

**Part 14 - Secrets**

When I woke the next morning, I kept my eyes shut for a long moment, recalling what had happened in the middle of the night. Alex gave himself to me and it had been perfect. It hadn't, of course, but it felt perfect to me. He trusted me and loved me and it delighted me. Now, I still felt drained, despite having showered and then gone back to sleep for several hours.

Gradually I became aware that I was alone and I opened one eye and then the other, turning my head left and then right and confirming that Alex wasn't in the room. I checked the time and discovered that it was past nine. I assumed he would be in the bathroom or the kitchen and I rose slowly, pulled on a pair of jeans and went to look for him. I found him in the living room, sitting on the sofa, fully dressed, hair dishevelled as if he'd been running his hands through it. His face looked drawn, eyes shadowed as if he hadn't slept.

"Hey."

He looked up, teeth gnawing anxiously at his lower lip, immediately telling me something was wrong. I moved to his side quickly and sat down, wrapping an arm around him.

"What is it?" Perhaps I'd hurt him after all. Maybe he woke and panicked and decided he didn't want to fuck again.

He leaned into me and pressed his face against my shoulder for a moment, then breathed out hard and pulled away from me. A sense of forboding filled me and I waited tensely for him to speak.

"Walter, I want to be sure you know what you're doing. Going away with me."

"I'm sure," I said at once. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you and I want to be with you." I figured he just needed reassurance, but he nodded slowly and ran a hand through his hair.

"Then I need to tell you some things. There's a lot you don't know about me." He gave a short, bitter laugh and got to his feet, beginning to pace up and down in front of me. My heart began to pound faster and I frowned, pushing my glasses up my nose. What the hell was he going to tell me?

"I didn't...I guess I thought it wouldn't matter. Up until last night I didn't really think...ugh!" He broke off and tugged a hand through his hair again. "I'm shit at this. I didn't think you'd really give everything up to be with me. I know you said you love me and I believe you, but when it came to it, I thought you'd change your mind. I thought it didn't matter, but it does now. You can't start your life with me not knowing who I am."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. So far as I knew, he had been recruited into the FBI, looking forward to a promising future and then been pressured into working for Cancerman.

"This is probably going to change everything. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I just didn't think I'd ever have to."

"Tell me what?" The prompt came out sounding harsher than I meant it to and his face fell, eyes avoiding mine as he hovered on the other side of the room.

"I wasn't born here. I told you my parents were Cold War immigrants. The people who took me in were, but I was born in Russia. My mother was a whore, my father a...he was a secret agent. I guess I was an accident. My father was married and the woman I came to know as my mother wasn't able to have children. I have no idea why she would agree to raise me, but that's what happened. I'm trying to make a long story short here. If by some miracle this doesn't change your mind, I'll tell you the rest of it - anything you want to know."

"Alex, come here and sit down," I said. "Everyone has secrets. Just because you haven't told me about your life before the FBI, doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to stop loving you, or walk away from you."

"I killed my own father!" he blurted. "I was fifteen years old! I was recruited by the same agency my father worked for. I didn't know it at the time, but he was working for the States as well and he got caught out. They wanted to finish him and I guess they thought it would be amusing to have his own son do it."

"Fuck," I muttered, startled and unable to restrain the expletive.

"I hated him," Alex went on. "He beat me when I was younger, told me I was worthless and I was never going to amount to anything. I think he resented the fact that he got a whore pregnant and ended up stuck with the result. I don't know...he didn't have to take me away from her. I always wondered if it was because Yelena was so desperate to have a child, but I never asked. Then when I was thirteen he found out I was gay and it must have been the last straw. He beat the shit out of me every so often and if Yelena protested, he beat her too. So when they instructed me to kill him, I just did it. You'd think I'd have learned something from him, wouldn't you? But no. I wasn't even discreet about it. Shot him with his own gun in our house. The next day I was in jail - not a juvenile centre, but the real thing. They don't waste any time over there."

"Alex..." I got to my feet and went to him, but he raised both hands to ward me off.

"Yelena killed herself - overdosed on painkillers and vodka. I thought my life was over, but the agency got me out, something to do with having me transferred to a more permanent cell, but I never made it there. Next thing I knew, I was on my way here. I was placed with another couple who were paid to raise me. I didn't get to pick the direction I wanted to go in with my life, it was mapped out for me. School with extra curricular language lessons to make me lose my accent, then college, then the FBI. I was a plant from the beginning, but Cancerman snapped me up pretty much from the first day I set foot in the Bureau. I don't know if he knew my background or not, he never said. But I pretty much turned into my own father - Russia were still running me while I did Cancerman's bidding at the same time."

"A double agent?" I murmured.

"Yeah. When Cancerman decided I outlived my usefulness, I think it must have been something to do with that. There was no explanation, but if he didn't know at the start, he probably found out."

"And what about Russia? Are you still working for them?" I asked.

"No. What I told you about that was the truth. They knew Cancerman tried to have me killed and they figured I was too noticeable. I expected them to want to finish me off, but they let me go. My...uh...my boss, if you like, let me know they'd be keeping an eye on me, but other than that, I was free in a way. I called him to find out if they'd let me do one last job so I could get my arm. I hoped it might be something more discreet, but I guess you have to earn it if you're gonna ask for a million bucks. That was obviously the one you knew about."

"And the people who brought you up here?" I prompted.

"I said my parents were killed and that was who I was referring to. Their car ran off the road. I don't know if it was an accident or whether it was decided they knew too much."

"Did you care about them?"

"Not really. I learned my lesson in Russia. I always kept my feelings out of anything after that. Until you saved my life and then I fucking fell like a stone."

I stared at him, trying to untangle my thoughts enough to speak. Did it make a difference, I asked myself? Would I suddenly stop loving him because of what he'd told me? Absolutely not. There was no doubt there was a lot more to his story - he had said he was trying to make it short - but all I could see was that he'd had no choice in anything for thirteen years of his life. Everything was mapped out for him by people that would kill him without a second thought if he didn't do what he was told. None of what had happened was his fault and I doubted there was anything he could tell me that was worse than what he had already said.

"Walter...if you want to walk away now, I'll understand," Alex finished shakily.

"Alex..." I paused and cleared my throat.

"Don't say anything. I'm going to...uh...disappear for a little while to give you some time to think about it." Before I could answer, he strode out of the room, grabbed his jacket and left the cabin, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Oh, fuck," I groaned. I hauled myself to my feet and went to use the bathroom before I began making myself some coffee. My mind was racing, but most of my thoughts were of sympathy for a young Russian boy who could have had a promising life if it hadn't been for his father, his agency 'boss' and Cancerman. I clenched my fists hard enough to snap the handle from the coffee mug as I thought about the number of times I'd been in that man's office or heard his voice on my phone, giving me orders that I couldn't question. The last one had been to get rid of Alex and right then, I wanted to slam my fists into the man's face over and over and see him suffer in return.

I drank the coffee and then paced the same way Alex had, back and forth around the house. I was furious. Not with Alex, but with everyone who had made his life what it was. I lost track of time as I stomped around, wanting to go looking for him, but realising it would be too easy to miss each other in the woods and have him come back to the cabin and think I'd left him. I stayed put, growling and swearing, waiting for him to come back. I had barely begun to calm down an hour later when I heard the door open with a faint squeak and I determinedly schooled my face into what I hoped was a pleasant expression, taking a deep breath to relax my taut muscles.

Alex removed his boots and jacket silently and joined me in the living room. He was pale and tense, eyes haunted and his lip was caught between his teeth. I was immediately desperate to wrap him up in my arms and tell him it was all okay, but I had to speak first. I just wasn't sure exactly what to say.

"Walter?" Alex said. He didn't sound at all hopeful, only resigned.

"I want to ask you a question," I said.

"Okay." He nodded meekly.

"Other than beating me up in a stairwell, a long time ago, which we've already gotten over, have you done anything to directly hurt me?"

"No!" he exclaimed at once. "Nothing. Walter, I..."

"Sshh, I'm making a point here." I moved toward him and reached out to grip his upper arms. He was shaking and I squeezed his bicep and also the metal one, even though he wouldn't feel it. "I put the things you did for Cancerman in the past because you didn't have a choice in doing them. It seems to me that you haven't had a choice in much of anything in your life up to now. My point is that nothing you've done has hurt me. Nothing you've done is relevant to me."

"I'm a killer! I killed my own father!" Alex repeated bitterly.

"You were a child! A hurt, bullied child, again with no choice. What would the Russian agency have done to you if you didn't carry out their orders? Then or more recently?"

"It's no excuse."

"It was survival," I said more calmly. "And it's in the past. I love you. I already told you you're stuck with me and I'm saying it again. I just have one more question and that is, when you told me breaking into the Bureau was a one-off, was that the truth?"

"Yes," he averred.

"They just let you go? Just like that?"

"Like I said, I was becoming too noticeable. They ended my...contract, if you like. They watch me and they keep in touch to make sure I'm not going to cause trouble for them, but it's over. They know I won't fuck up, because I'll be signing my own death warrant. They only gave me the job of getting the Black Oil files because I begged for something that would get me my arm. They figured I was the best one to do that because I already knew so much about it."

"Do they know about me?" I asked.

"No, but they will eventually. They won't just let me disappear and they'll see I'm not alone."

"What about when they find out who you're with? Won't they come after me?"

"You're not with the Bureau any more. You'll have a different name and we'll be in another country. They'll know who you are, but they won't see you as a threat."

I was reminded of my conversation with Mulder, where he had suggested I would be going on the run and suddenly it seemed as if that was exactly what I would be doing, only it was some faceless Russian agents who would keep an eye on me rather than anyone Cancerman might have recruited.

"Walter, you can still change your mind," Alex said. "Listen. I have to sort some things out and it's going to take me a week, maybe a little more. You have to deal with stuff in DC. I can't come to you, but I'll send a messenger. He'll give you a package and you can either accept it or reject it. If you don't take it, I'll know and you won't hear from me again."

"Alex, I'm not going to do that!" I said earnestly.

"You might. You need to think about everything I told you. If you have any doubts about me at all, don't come with me. I'll understand."

I sighed heavily. It wasn't going to make a difference what I said. Until I went to him, wherever he was, he was going to worry that I would walk away from him. Both of us were going to have the week from hell before that messenger found me.

"Alright," I agreed. "But just remember this. I love you, so much. I..."

"I know, Walter," Alex murmured.

"Okay. Well, I guess we should leave now then and start things moving," I said reluctantly.

"Yeah. You can just leave me at the truck stop again, if you don't mind." He made to pull away from me, but I gripped him more firmly and drew him closer. After a brief hesitation, he leaned against me and wrapped his arms around my neck. I hugged him tightly, feeling his breath on my neck, the slight trembling than ran through his whole body. "I love you so fucking much, Walter," he whispered.

"I love you too." I repeated. I stroked my hand over his hair and brushed my lips across his cheek, then let him go.

"There's one more thing I need. I should have thought of it when we were in Williamsport. A passport photograph."

"Oh. Yes, of course. We'll need to go back into town. There's a booth in the drugstore," I said.

"Fine. You can just leave me in the town, then."

Again there was a little distance between us and I went about packing the few things I needed to take with me, concentrating on the simple job and doing my best to squash down my feelings. I told myself this temporary goodbye wasn't as bad as the last one - our future together was right around the corner and we only had to get through a week or so apart, but I knew I was going to be worrying like hell about Alex the whole time. It was clear he would be telling himself it was over the minute I set off back to DC.

I drove into Williamsport and we walked quickly to the drugstore. The photo booth was empty and I sat for a strip of photographs. I wished we could have done this on another day - a day where I might have pulled him into the booth with me to get a couple of snaps of us together. Sighing, I stepped out from behind the curtain and retrieved the photos, handing them straight to Alex. I was tempted to ask for some of him, but I wanted to see him smile in any photo I had of him. His face was currently a blank mask, eyes pained. I led him back to the truck and he took his bag out. He intended to get on a bus and then make his way...somewhere.

I pulled him toward me, ignoring the half dozen people within sight in the parking lot. He leaned against me immediately and we held onto each other for a long moment, neither of us speaking and I didn't kiss him. Eventually it was me who gently pushed him away from me and met his eyes.

"I'll see you soon, Alex."

He gave me a half nod.

"How will the messenger find me? I won't be at the condo, I..."

"Don't worry about that. He'll find you."

"Okay."

He opened his mouth as if to say something else and then shut it again and backed away. I struggled to speak, but also found I had no words so I simply stood there and watched him walk backwards a few more steps, then turn and stride briskly away.

"Fuck." I yanked open the door of the truck and climbed in, my eyes smarting. "Fuck, Alex. Be safe," I muttered. "I'll be waiting."

The drive back to DC was a long one. Each mile took me further away from Alex and my mind was tormented with everything he had already gone through and what he would be going through now until the messenger let him know I'd accepted whatever he sent me. I ached for him and everything I felt only confirmed again that the things he had told me didn't matter. I realised I'd never felt this strongly about anyone, not even Sharon, and the fact that I was going to have to change my identity to be with him wasn't important.

I tried to concentrate on the things I had to do when I got back. It would be too late to start when I arrived, so I checked into a motel and spent some time writing out a list of tasks so that I wouldn't forget anything. My mind was so full of Alex that I didn't trust my memory to ensure that everything got done. When I eventually fell into bed, I slept only from exhaustion and when I woke the next morning, I was instantly wide awake and ready to get started.

I plowed through the next three days, checking off items on the list as I went. I sold my car, I took a good amount of my clothes to Goodwill and I spoke to the agent dealing with the sale on the condo about the furniture that was still there. It turned out that the purchaser had always rented furnished and the young couple would be delighted to take my furniture to get them started. I let it all go for two thousand dollars and took away all my personal items in the truck that I was still renting until I had to leave. I had paperwork to deal with, people to visit and by the end of the third day everything was complete except for talking to Sharon. I'd called her and arranged to see her the next day when her husband was at work. He was a decent guy and I got along with him well enough, but I didn't want to talk about this with him there. I hadn't yet decided exactly how much I would tell Sharon, but I knew that whatever I did say, I could trust her with it.

The next afternoon I arrived at Sharon's house just before two o'clock and she greeted me with her usual hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, Walter, how are you?"

"I'm good, Sharon. You?"

"Yes, I'm well, thank you."

"And Tom?"

"He's good, but working too hard. Would you like coffee?"

"Yes, thanks."

We made smalltalk while she poured coffee and led me into the living room. I sat in the old armchair that had once been in our shared house and she sat on the sofa.

"You look tired, Walter," she said then. "And worried. What's wrong?"

"That's what I came to talk to you about." I paused and cleared my throat. How to start? "I met someone."

"Oh, well, that's good. I was sorry it didn't work out with Rosemary."

"She wasn't really my...well...um...I don't know if you ever wondered...I figured maybe you did...I...um..." I stammered. Suddenly I wasn't sure how to tell my ex-wife that I was with a man, but it turned out I was right - she had guessed.

"Who is he?"

"You knew?"

"I suspected."

"I never...went with men while I was married to you," I said.

"I know that, Walter. Go on." She smiled and sipped her coffee.

"He's...um...his name's Alex. He worked at the Bureau briefly. He's...uh...he had some trouble...blackmailed by...uh...a government group...never mind, there's a lot I can't say about that."

"I understand," Sharon put in quietly.

"So he has to leave the States. I'm going with him," I said bluntly.

"You love him," she stated.

"Yeah."

"Does he love you?"

"I believe so."

"I'm glad for you, Walter."

"You're not going to tell me to think more carefully and not jet off to Timbuktu at the drop of a hat?" I teased.

"No. Life's too short, Walter. I'll miss you, but you'll keep in touch, won't you? Email or something?"

"Of course," I said at once.

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know yet, Alex is sorting it out. I'm gonna have to...uh...I'll have a different name."

She frowned now. "It's that serious?"

"There are people who want to see him dead." I didn't add that the same fate would await me if Cancerman discovered Alex was still alive and kicking.

"Will you be safe?" Sharon asked.

"Yes, we both will. You don't need to worry."

"So. Are you going to tell me about him? What kind of person is he? What does he look like? That type of thing."

"You really aren't upset that I...?" I began.

"Of course not. Would you be, if Tom was a woman?" she smiled.

"Not as long as you were happy."

"Well, then. Are you happy, Walter?"

"I will be, when I go to him. So...what's he like? Dark hair, green eyes, maybe an inch shorter than me. He's twenty-eight..."

"A boy," Sharon laughed.

"Sometimes I wonder what he sees in me. I'm an old man."

"Nonsense, Walter, forty-five isn't old. You're a good-looking, sexy man and Alex clearly has a lot of sense."

"Sharon!" I scoffed, a touch embarrassed.

"I'm being serious."

I went on, telling her the little I could about Alex. Eventually I went out to the truck to bring in the boxes of items I wasn't going to be able to take with me, at least not immediately. She promised to keep them safe and send them on if I needed them. I stayed a couple of hours before I gave her a hug and promised to let her know when I actually left DC for the last time. I returned to the motel, where I would have to stay until I heard from Alex.

Five more days passed and nothing happened. I was going out of my mind with boredom and worry, longing for Alex and knowing there was nothing I could do but wait. It was late one evening when I finally received the message I'd been waiting for. I'd been over to Sharon and Tom's house for dinner and when I arrived back at the motel and walked into the darkened room, I was shocked to find a man sitting in the darkness in the single chair in the corner. I flicked the light on immediately, wishing I was armed. I had already disposed of my weapons, knowing I wouldn't be able to take them out of the country and now I was vulnerable.

"Who are you?" I demanded. I hoped Alex had sent him, but there was always the chance he was there for another reason.

"We have a mutual friend." He rose to his feet and I noted he was short and stocky, holding a thick envelope in one hand, but no gun. I relaxed marginally.

"Yes?" I queried.

"Initials," the man said shortly.

"AK," I responded.

"In full."

"Uh…" _Alexsei Vladimir Krycek…and something beginning with 'T' that I couldn't pronounce. _"AVKT," I said.

"Country of origin?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" I frowned. He simply glared back at me and waited. "Russia," I added.

He stepped forward and held out the envelope to me. "Check this."

I took it and opened the flap. Inside was a passport and a folder holding airline tickets. I took out the passport and looked at the photo I'd had taken in Williamsport. I was an Australian with the name Troy Robinson, six months younger than I actually was. There was a stamp on one of the pages showing I'd flown into JFK the previous week. The tickets were from JFK to LAX and then on to Sydney, Australia in two days' time.

"Will you speak to him?" I asked and was treated to a curt nod. "Make sure he knows I'll be using these tickets."

My visitor gave me another nod, skirted around me and let himself out of the room. I locked the door behind him and heaved a huge sigh of relief, before sitting down and looking through the documents again. I needed to be at JFK in just under forty-eight hours to catch my flight to LAX. The wait was almost over and I would be with him again. I wondered where he was - was he still in the country or would he meet me in Sydney? I had no way of knowing and would simply have to make the trip and wait for him to find me.

I slept better that night than I had in a while, but I woke early and went out to find breakfast. One more night and I would be on my way. I ignored the diner next door, which wasn't the nicest establishment in the world, and drove downtown to a coffee house I liked. Some of the waitresses knew me and within seconds I had a cup of coffee in front of me and the pretty blonde had headed off to fetch my usual - bacon, sausage, eggs, tomatoes and pancakes on the side.

I ate slowly, savouring the meal and repeatedly touching the inside pocket of my jacket which held the passport and tickets. I had slept with them under my pillow and I didn't intend to let them out of my sight for a minute. When I finished eating, I paid in cash, tipped the waitress and headed back to the motel, parking up directly outside my door. The lot was deserted, but I noticed the door next to mine was open a crack. I idly wondered if the room was being cleaned as I went to my own door and unlocked it. I was halfway into the room when I heard the shot and then I was falling, face first into the worn brown carpet. My glasses flew off and I gasped, winded as I hit the ground. I'd been shot? My mind raced. Had Cancerman found out about Alex? Was it the Russians? Why was there no pain?

I pushed my hand forward to lift myself up into a sitting position to check for damage, but my feeble effort to raise my upper body finished with me sprawling flat again. I could feel the rough pile of the carpet under my palms, but that was all. There was no other sensation except for a sudden drop in temperature and I felt myself begin to shiver. I figured I must be in shock and I twisted my head around to look over my shoulder. I couldn't see my own back, but my eyes immediately noted the spreading puddle of blood on the carpet around me. I shuddered, partly from cold and partly from the realisation that the wound was bad enough to drain my blood so fast - bad enough that I couldn't feel any pain.

"Alex," I whispered. He was hundreds, maybe thousands of miles away and I had no way to let him know that I was going to miss my plane. My eyes closed and I struggled to force them open again, knowing I should get my cellphone out of my pocket and call 911, but I couldn't do it. My hands and my head were too heavy to move and as much as I didn't want to, I had no choice but to give up.


	15. Chapter 15 - Fear

**A/N I had planned to write all of the story from Walter's point of view, but with him injured and unconscious, we're going to hear from Alex for this chapter.**

**Part 15 - Fear**

**Alex's POV**

I checked my wristwatch for the fiftieth time and glanced up at the arrivals board, noting yet again that Walter's flight from JFK was on time and due to land in thirty minutes. I had arrived four hours previous, after what seemed like an endless journey.

After leaving Walter in Williamsport, I hitched to New York and met up with my contact to arrange the passports. I had used all of my own several times and decided it wasn't a good idea to keep on doing that, so I became an Australian the same as Walter. I had grinned when I saw the name Troy Robinson on his and hoped he wouldn't hate it. I was Darrell Gough, which I wasn't over the moon about, but you couldn't pluck a name out of the air - you had to take what you could get. I arranged the tickets as soon as I had the passports and met with my messenger late one night, before sending him to DC to find Walter. I'd spent the next twenty-four hours tearing my hair out, convinced the package would be returned, but I eventually received an anonymous phone call to tell me my friend would be using his tickets. I had almost cried with relief, while telling myself to get it together and stop acting like a pathetic, love-sick girl.

I had convinced myself that after what I told Walter, he wouldn't be able to accept it. He said he loved me and that it didn't matter and I knew that if I hadn't stopped him, he would have gone on trying to reassure me before we parted. I wanted to believe it, but I knew that time could change things and he might be spending those few days away from me wondering what the hell he was doing changing his identity and fleeing the country to be with me - someone with no scruples and not much of a conscience, who had lied and covered things up. But Walter really did love me and he was on his way.

My heart thrummed in my chest as I forced myself to sit still on the plastic airport chair, my carry-on resting between my feet. The connecting flight to Sydney was to leave just over two hours after the plane from JFK came in, so there would be plenty of time to check in and get something to eat when Walter joined me. I was hungry, but nervous excitement had prevented me from eating since before I left New York. When he arrived, we could grab a snack before the long flight, which I had booked first class tickets for. I planned for us to continue on to Tasmania afterward, but we would purchase tickets for the last short leg in Sydney.

The next thirty minutes crawled by and I listened to the announcement that Walter's plane was on the tarmac, then waited what seemed like an interminable amount of time before the passengers began to appear from the tunnel close to where I was sitting. I stayed in the chair, knees bouncing, fists clenched in my lap, scanning each face and telling myself not to hurl myself into his arms the moment I saw him. There would be plenty of time for that later.

My heart was in my mouth and my stomach a knot when the flight attendants appeared and the gate was closed off. Everyone had disembarked, but Walter wasn't with them. I'd watched every person pass me and he wasn't there...he hadn't been on the plane. I continued to sit there, trying to tell myself that I'd just missed him and that he was wandering around looking for me, but I knew it wasn't the case. He hadn't come...he had changed his mind...he didn't want me. My metal fist clenched harder on the edge of the chair until I heard the plastic snap and I released it quickly, running my other hand through my hair and briefly registering that I needed to get it cut. I wore it close-cropped lately, but it had begun to grow out and strands of it were falling onto my forehead and bugging hell out of me.

My thoughts changed direction and I began to wonder if something had happened. Surely he wouldn't let me down. He'd had more than a week to think about it before he got the package - surely he would have known by then if he was going to walk away from me. What if he was hurt? What if someone got to him? Perhaps Cancerman found out. I pictured Walter stabbed, shot, drowned, beaten to hell, locked up somewhere nasty and tortured into giving away my whereabouts and I snatched up my bag and rushed into the restrooms, barely making it into one of the stalls before my stomach emptied. I crouched there, shaking and sweating, dry-heaving when there was nothing left to come up until some random stranger asked if I was okay. I flushed the toilet and scrambled up awkwardly.

"Uh...yeah...airsickness," I muttered. The man gave me a brief sympathetic look and then turned away to the urinal. I returned to the arrivals lounge and tried to get my thoughts in order, telling myself that I was worrying about nothing. What were the chances that anything had happened to him? Close to zero. He probably just changed his mind - or missed the plane. I knew there was another flight due in from JFK in less than three hours and I tried to convince myself he'd gotten caught up in traffic and changed his ticket for the next one. He would have let me know if I had a cellphone.

I bought myself a bottle of water and some peppermint gum, my mouth foul-tasting from vomiting. I knew I should eat something, but I couldn't face it and instead I chewed the gum until I had freshened up and then sipped the water and checked the arrivals board for the gate number of the flight from JFK. It was maybe a hundred yards from where I'd been sitting and I made my way over there and chose another place to sit. I would just wait and he would come - he had to.

Evening crept into night and I rubbed my sore eyes, dry and gritty from lack of sleep. I still hadn't eaten, but I was past hunger and had only managed to swallow another bottle of water and some juice. I went to use the restroom and took my toothbrush out of my bag to freshen up my mouth properly, then returned to my seat. I was exhausted and my head ached. The plane from JFK was in and about to disembark, but suddenly I couldn't bring myself to watch the passengers come out of the tunnel only to find Walter wasn't with them. I rested my elbows on my knees and pressed my face into my hands, squeezing my eyes shut and praying with everything I had that I was about to feel a large hand on my shoulder and his voice greeting me. _Alex, I'm here. I'm sorry I'm late._

"Krycek?"

I jerked upright in shock and stared up at Mulder, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, a leather jacket slung over his arm. For a moment I was completely paralysed and incapable of speech as I racked my brain for any plausible reason why he would be here and not Walter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I grunted, getting to my feet.

"Sit down, Alex," Mulder said, dropping onto the seat next to mine. I scowled at him and he nodded at the seat I had vacated. "Sit," he repeated.

I sat, more shocked that he had called me 'Alex' than over his appearance in general.

"Alex..." Mulder began again and it occurred to me that I was travelling under a fake passport and that I should say something.

"Don't call me that," I muttered.

"Then what am I supposed to call you?" Mulder asked, his face perplexed.

"Darrell."

His eyebrows rose. "I'm not even going to ask. Walter seems not to be Walter any more either. Troy? Really?"

"Where is he?" I demanded. "Why are you here? Did something happen?"

"Sharon sent me," Mulder said. "Believe me, I am not here out of choice. If it was down to me, you'd sit here for a week waiting."

"Tell me, for fuck's sake!" I hissed, real fear beginning to fill me. Sharon sent Mulder to find me? _Sharon_ - Walter's ex-wife? She was probably still down as his next of kin. Something had happened to him and he'd told her about me. She wanted me there...for Walter. "Please," I whispered, not caring that I was begging one of the people I loathed the most.

"He's been shot," Mulder told me.

"Oh, God. Please tell me he's not dead."

"No, but it was close. He was shot in the back and it's pretty bad. He lost a lot of blood and he hadn't regained consciousness when I left. Sharon and Scully are with him."

"How did you find me?" I breathed.

"He had a passport and tickets in his jacket pocket. Sharon found them and figured out what his plans were so she sent me. I wouldn't do this for anyone else. But you apparently mean a lot to him and he's gonna need people there...if he wakes up."

"What do you mean, 'if'?" My stomach flipped over slowly and I dropped my head back into my hands, hoping I wasn't going to throw up again.

"The shot severed his spinal cord."

I couldn't speak. Every moment I had spent with Walter began to flash in front of my eyes and I clenched my fists, pressing them into my eye sockets. I remembered waking up in his bed when I had pneumonia, having him carry me to the bathroom, bathe me, feed me, fix my arm. Our first kiss when I'd just gotten out of the shower, frantic touching, the sudden and surprising realisation that I wanted him to fuck me even though I knew I wouldn't be able to take it back then. Longing for him when I was in Japan and then the last few incredible days at the cabin where he said he loved me and finally fucked me. It had hurt, but not nearly as much as I expected. He took care of me and the feel of him inside me while he told me he loved me was overwhelming. Then at the end he told me that what I'd done didn't matter and that he wanted to spend his life with me. I pictured him lying in a hospital bed now, unconscious and waking to find that he was paralysed and that our plans were in ruins.

I didn't even realise I was crying until Mulder's hand came to rest on my arm and gave it a rough squeeze. I didn't feel it - he was on my left side - but I sensed and then saw it. He snatched his hand back in shock and waited for me to look up.

"Fuck...uh...s-sorry," I choked.

"You really care about him." Mulder sounded surprised.

"I fucking love him," I blurted.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't pretend to give a shit about me, Mulder." I forced my tears back and scrubbed my hand over my face.

"I don't, but I care about Walter and I wouldn't wish this news on my worst enemy."

"I thought I was your worst enemy."

"We both have one a lot worse than you." Mulder imitated smoking and I forced a wan smile.

"Is he responsible for this?" I asked.

"I have no idea."

"I'll find out," I said. "Whoever did this will pay."

"We need to get back to DC," Mulder said. "There's a direct flight in an hour. You'll need to buy a ticket. I assume you have money?"

"Yes." I got to my feet quickly. Much to my surprise, Mulder picked up my bag and walked at my side as we headed for the desk belonging to the airline he had already arranged a flight back with. I paid cash for a one-way and followed him to departures. I felt numb and scared and I was having trouble processing what Mulder had told me. Severed spinal cord? Walter would at least be paralysed from the waist down, possibly worse than that. What would our future hold now? He wouldn't be able to leave DC for some long time, maybe not even then. It never occurred to me to consider that we would have to part - all I could think about was how I could stay with him without getting myself killed.

"Al - Darrell." Mulder's voice pulled me out of my fugue.

"What?"

"What happened to your arm?"

I glanced at him with a sigh. "After I got away from you in Tunguska I joined up with an army of rebels. All of them had their left arms cut off to prevent them being used as test subjects. They did the same to me."

"They amputated your arm?" Mulder gasped.

"I'd hardly put it like that. They cut it off with a red-hot blade while I was conscious," I said baldly.

"Fuck!" Mulder's eyes went wide and he gulped audibly.

"I have an experimental robotic arm - fitted in Japan eighteen months ago."

"Can I see?" Mulder asked, sounding sickenly eager.

"No." I scowled at him. "No one's seen it other than the doctors and Walter and I intend for it to stay that way. I'm not one of your X-Files, Mulder."

"Sorry." He shrugged and dropped it. "Our flight's being called. I just need to make a quick..." He broke off as he pulled out his cellphone.

"To whom?"

"Scully. So she can tell Sharon I found you."

"Okay."

I waited while he made the call and reported to me that there was no change in Walter's condition. Then he shut the phone off and preceded me down the tunnel to the plane.

We didn't sit together. Mulder was travelling in coach while I'd bought myself a first class ticket. I couldn't stomach the idea of being crammed in between him and some stranger and so I sat alone, the seat beside me empty, giving me privacy to torment myself with my fears all the way back to DC. I was already making plans for revenge on whoever had ordered Walter's death and at the same time, trying to figure out what to do about us. Walter wouldn't be satisfied to spend his life in a wheelchair with me caring for him. I knew I could do it - he had done it for me after all - but he would hate it. He'd probably rather die than be incapable like that, but there was a possibility, albeit a slim one, than he could be healed.

I wasn't sure exactly how far the experimental surgeries had gone in Japan, but if they could somehow manufacture a part that would fix Walter's spine, that would reconnect the nerves or whatever was necessary to make him whole again, then maybe all wasn't lost. How much would something like that cost? A million? Two? My brain rambled and by the time the plane began its descent into DC, I had visions of myself contacting Ivan, my old agency boss in Russia, persuading him to give me another job and then taking Walter to Tokyo where he would be miraculously fixed up, making it possible for us to go on to Australia and start our lives together. It was a dream, but it was what kept me going as Mulder steered me into a cab and took me to the hospital.

I hated hospitals with a vengeance. The establishment in Japan had been more of a clinic, but it had the same smell as a hospital, the same stark white and bright fluorescents everywhere, the same medical staff and equipment and it reminded me of the three months of hell I'd spent there alone. My footsteps slowed as we approached the unit where Walter was being kept and Mulder had to grab hold of my arm and tow me after him for the last few yards. Then I was stepping through a door and the first thing I saw was Walter - my Walter - motionless on a bed, surrounded by wires and tubes and fucking beeping machines. I froze, my heart racing and utter panic filling me. He wasn't going to make it. There would be no going to Japan, no miraculous operation to fix him, no future with him. I could hear myself panting as I struggled to breathe and a strange rushing sound in my ears. I planted my feet further apart as my legs wobbled, hoping I wasn't going to collapse on the floor and make a complete idiot out of myself.

I dimly became aware of Scully, dressed in scrubs, staring at me suspiciously, and a small woman of about Walter's age rising from a chair beside the bed. She came to me and grasped my right hand in both of hers. I shook myself and looked down at her, noticing her eyes were red from crying.

"Alex? I'm Sharon." She let go of my hand and wrapped her arms around me, giving me a tight hug and I returned it awkwardly, wondering what she thought of me. She didn't seem to have the slightest misgivings about the fact that her ex-husband had chosen to be with me.

"How...?" I licked my lips and cleared my throat as she stepped away from me. "How is he?"

"Stable, they say. He hasn't woken since he was brought in, but they expect it to happen at any time."

I glanced at Scully and was treated to a hard look.

"Hello, Dana," I said. "I guess you know it was me he was taking care of. The pneumonia?"

She moved her eyes in a vague imitation of a nod.

"How is he, really?"

Scully let out a sigh. "It's not good, Krycek. The bullet severed his spinal cord from close range. From past experience, I'd say if he recovers, he'll likely be able to move his arms, but it's not a guarantee."

Sharon gave a small gasp and I wondered if it was the first time she'd heard this news. She was back in the chair at the side of the bed. I reached out for something to grab to support myself and clutched at thin air. The rushing sound was back, but just before I began to fall, an arm caught me from behind and in the next moment I was in a chair just inside the door.

"I'll leave you to it," Mulder's voice said and I heard the door close as he exited. I dropped my head down between my knees, trying to fight off the waves of dizziness and silently cursing myself. _Get hold of yourself, Alex, he needs you to be strong._

"Are you alright, Alex?"

I opened my eyes to find Sharon crouching beside my chair, her hand resting on my left arm and a look of concern on her face. The fact that she was concerned about me puzzled me. She'd never met me before and yet she seemed to care about my well-being.

"You don't know me," I mumbled stupidly.

"I know what Walter told me. Anyone that makes him look as happy as you did, is a friend of mine." She gave me a smile. "You look terrible, Alex, when did you last sleep? Or eat?"

"I can't remember."

"Stay there, I'll get you something." She rose and left the room and I sat there, shivering, watching Scully lift Walter's eyelids one at a time and check his pupils. She ignored me and I imagined she was about as pleased to see me as Mulder had been about having to fly to LA to find me. I felt as if I needed to apologise for my presence, but I kept my mouth shut until Sharon returned with a paper cup of coffee and two packets of sandwiches.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like - this one's chicken and the other is cheese salad," she said, placing the coffee cup in my hand and the sandwiches on my lap.

"Thanks," I answered. "They'll be fine." I forced myself to drink the coffee and then began on the sandwiches, realising that I was starving. I had to wonder at my body's ability to eat when I was sick with worry and wanted nothing more than to throw myself onto the bed beside Walter and sob like a child. I managed to eat all the sandwiches and then Sharon got up again and announced that she was going to freshen up.

"Why don't you sit over here, Alex?" she said, indicating the chair beside the bed. "Hold his hand...talk to him. Even unconscious, he might hear you. If he knows you're here, it could make all the difference."

I rose silently and moved to the other chair. Sharon patted my shoulder and left the room and I glanced up at Scully. "Is that true? What she said?"

"It's well-known that people in comas can hear the voices of their...loved ones," Scully said. "It might help. I'll leave you alone for a while. If there's any change, press that red button there."

"Change?" I queried.

"If anything speeds up or stops, or he wakes."

"Okay."

Scully left the room and for a moment I panicked again. It was just him and me - no medical staff in case anything went wrong. What if he flatlined? What if something got worse and I didn't realise? I fidgeted and tore at my hair, anxiously looking at the beeping machine at the other side of him, noting a figure which was clearly his heartbeat, something else that might have been blood pressure. The steady beep continued and his chest rose and fell evenly with the help of a tube in his mouth. His chest was bare and a stark, white sheet covered him to just above the waist.

"Oh, fuck, Walter," I muttered. "How did this happen?" I shuffled the chair closer to the bed and cautiously moved my hands to take his. He felt cool and his hand lay limply in mine. I squeezed it firmly, hoping for some kind of response, but there was none. "Can you hear me?" I asked. "It's Alex. Mulder came to LA to get me, can you believe that? I told him about my arm. I think it was the shock of hearing that you were hurt, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. God knows what else I told him. The man hates me. I know the only thing stopping him from having me arrested is you."

I rambled on, not really sure what I was saying. I talked about his cabin and the time we'd spent there. I told him I had no intention of going anywhere without him and that whatever happened, I would stick around and care for him the way he had me. I doubted he would want to hear that, but I said it anyway. I told him I loved him and I swore that I would find who hurt him and make them pay. I talked for an hour and he made no sign that he heard me or that he was waking. Eventually Sharon returned with a nurse who checked his vitals and announced again that there was no change.

Sharon sat in the chair by the door and it occurred to me that I should offer my own - let her sit closer. I held onto his hand, trying not to crush it with my metal fingers, and turned to look at her. "Do you want to sit over here?"

"No, Alex, your place is by his side."

I nodded thankfully. "Do you know what happened?"

"He was returning to his motel. The manager heard a shot and found him face down on the ground, just inside his room, the door still open. He called 911 and the hospital called me. I'm still down as his next of kin."

"Any idea who did this?"

Sharon shook her head and frowned. "I have to wonder...he told me you needed to leave the country. He didn't say much other than that some group might want you dead."

I grimaced and avoided her eyes. "You think this is my fault?"

"Is it?"

"I don't know. Possibly. Can I tell you...a little?"

"Alex, I've always kept Walter's confidences, no matter what it was about. I can keep yours too," she said.

"I worked for a group connected to the FBI. A man Walter knows who...uh...well, he's not exactly what you'd call a law abiding citizen. He decided he didn't want me around any more and arranged to have me...disposed of. I was supposed to die. This...uh...this man knew Walter too and instructed him to make sure his orders were carried out."

Sharon gasped. "Walter was expected to kill you?"

"If I wasn't already dead when he found me, yes. Of course, he didn't. He saved my life and helped me get away. While this was happening we kind of...had a connection. We were apart for a long while in between, but I came back and..." I shrugged. "The rest is history. This guy I mentioned...it's possible that he found out I'm still alive. If that's the case he'd be pissed...I'm sorry...angry at Walter that he didn't do his job so that could be the reason Walter's been shot."

"And these people work for the government?" Sharon exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry to say. You can't say anything...to anyone."

"I know. Do Dana and Fox know about this?"

"Fox?" I frowned in puzzlement until I remembered Mulder's first name was Fox. "No," I said. "They might have figured out a bit of it, but there's a lot they don't know."

"Okay. Well, that explains why you were planning to leave the country. Am I allowed to ask where? I know he had a ticket for Sydney."

"It's academic now," I said with a sigh, glancing at the door to check we weren't about to be interrupted. "But yeah, we were heading for Tasmania. Walter would have gotten in touch and told you where we were."

"I pray..." Sharon began and swallowed hard. "..that you'll have the chance to go there...if miracles happen."

"I'll do everything in my power to make sure they do," I answered.


	16. Chapter 16 - Hope

**A/N Back to Walter now as he wakes to find out his life as he knew it, is over. But there's always hope.**

**Part 16 - Hope**

**Walter's POV**

I gradually became aware of unfamiliar noises around me - a persistent beeping, some other electronic sound and a quiet snuffling that could have been someone crying. I kept my eyes closed for another minute, trying to concentrate and remember what had happened. My throat hurt and I could vaguely remember choking, struggling, discovering I was in a hospital bed having a breathing tube removed. There were people in the room, but I didn't know who they were.

I forced my eyes open and blinked rapidly against the dry, gritty feel. Immediately I saw the dark head of Alex close to my right shoulder, resting on his folded arms, face down. His shoulders shook and I noticed he was wearing a red checkered shirt - one of mine. Why was he crying? Because of me?

I lifted my right hand slowly, frowning with the effort. My whole arm felt heavier than it should, but I'd been in hospital before, recovering from injuries I'd sustained in Vietnam and years later, a gun shot to the chest, so I figured it was the drugs or whatever had happened to me. I lowered my hand again onto the back of Alex's head. In a second he had jerked upright, dislodging me, and grasped my hand in both of his instead.

"Oh, God, Walter! You're awake!" He ducked his head to the side and wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve.

"Alex," I managed to say.

"Can you remember what happened?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to speak again and licked my lips. My throat felt as if it had been attacked by a cheese grater. "Water," I croaked.

He let go of me and picked up a cup from the table beside the bed, then tucked a hand under my shoulders to lift me so I could sip the water. I swallowed most of it and then subsided against the pillows.

"I was shot," I said. I could hear the gun going off in my head, see the rough, brown carpet of the motel room rushing up to meet me. "In the back," I added.

"I...uh...I need to call the others and...uh...let them know you woke up," Alex said, his voice wobbling.

"Hey, wait a minute. Look at me." I reached out to him again and touched his face. "I'm okay."

He gulped audibly and pulled my hand from his cheek, squeezing it firmly. "You...um...you...fuck..." he stammered. "I need..."

"Alex?" Something was wrong, I realised. He looked stricken, fighting to hold back more tears. How long had I been unconscious? How bad were my injuries? I moved my other hand and it came up off the bed, albeit slowly and heavily. I looked down at my body, my chest covered in wires, a needle in my arm attached to a drip, a thick white bandage around my sternum and my legs beneath a white sheet. I moved my feet - tried to move my feet - and nothing happened. I couldn't feel them. I couldn't feel my legs. I ran my hand down my body, feeling the hard flesh under it, but my body itself couldn't feel my own touch. "Alex!" I exclaimed.

"Walt..."

"Where was I shot?" I demanded harshly. I could remember trying to look behind me as I lay on the motel room floor, seeing blood on the carpet and wondering why I couldn't move or feel any pain. I found myself flailing about, trying to lift my upper body and discovering that I couldn't. I couldn't feel my stomach muscles, or anything at all. I took hold of one of the sticky pads holding a wire to the lower part of my chest and yanked it off, pulling out several hairs and wincing. At least I could feel that.

"Tell me!" I bellowed.

"Your spine," Alex responded.

"It's severed?" I'd seen this type of injury before - a young corporal in my platoon. He spent the rest of his days in a wheelchair, able to move only one arm and his head. He had died a year later. He had just given up and willed his body to let go.

"Walter...there's a chance that..." Alex began.

"Don't. Don't try to make it better," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. "I don't need the doctors to tell me I won't get out of bed again without being lifted out of it."

I heard the door open and footsteps, then Sharon's voice. "Alex, he's awake?"

"Yeah."

I opened my eyes again and met Sharon's as she stood beside Alex.

"Oh, Walter." Her tone told me everything and I let my eyes close once again. My plans for a life with Alex were over. I knew I wouldn't be able to leave the country now and it certainly wasn't safe for him to stay. Add to that there was no way in hell I would let him be with my like this, when I couldn't give him anything except to hold his hand and kiss him. I would have to tell him we were finished. He would feel that he owed me and he would argue, swear he would take care of me and I wouldn't be able to stand it. The only thing I could do was tell him I'd changed my mind - that even if I hadn't been shot, I wouldn't have got on the plane.

The sound of Alex and Sharon's voices began to fade and the damn annoying beeping next to me sped up. My lungs expanded, sucking in more air and then the beeping became one long, shrill squeal. It was the last thing I heard.

"He's back with us. Come on, Walter, open your eyes." It was Scully's voice and I forced my eyelids to lift, finding her bending over me. "You're okay, Walter."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Your heart stopped for a few seconds."

I wished briefly that the damned organ hadn't come back to life and I hated myself for that thought. I wasn't a quitter and everything in me wanted to fight, but what was the point? What did I have to look forward to now?

"Is there any hope they can reconnect...my spine?" I asked her.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Damn it, Dana, don't call me 'sir'!" I growled.

"Walter," Sharon admonished.

"What? You think I'm not entitled to display a little temper?" Suddenly I was furious and I preferred it to feeling helpless and pathetic. "Where's Alex? I need to talk to him." I had only just noticed that Alex wasn't in the room. Scully went to the door and opened it, calling him in.

"Will he be okay?" Sharon asked.

"His heartbeat is normal again. I'd say so," Scully said.

"I want to talk to Alex," I repeated. "Alone."

"Alright," Scully agreed after a brief pause. "Alex, hit that button if..."

"Anything changes, I know," Alex interrupted.

Much to my relief, the two women left the room along with the nurse who had apparently been assisting Scully and again I was alone with Alex. I went over the words in my head, how I would tell him that I changed my mind.

"Alex," I said gruffly. He leaned closer and took my hand, but I pulled mine free and clasped both my hands together on my chest. His green eyes looked hurt and I sighed heavily. It was for the best. What else could I do? He was twenty-eight years old and there was no way I would subject him to a life with a man who was half dead, even if it were safe for him to stay with me. "If this hadn't happened, I still wouldn't have met you," I began. "I'd changed my mind. If there was any way of getting in touch with you, I would have let you know."

"You changed your mind?" he repeated.

"The stuff you told me...I don't know, at the time, all I could think of was how I felt about you, but I guess in the cold light of day I realised it's too much. It wouldn't work. I didn't want a life where I'd always be looking over my shoulder. So...it'd be best if you left now and went on alone...to Australia."

I watched Alex's face as the pain in his eyes increased to the point where I gasped in shock. What the fuck was I doing? He had never loved anyone...never had anyone love him and now I'd just negated everything I'd ever said to him. He'd given himself to me just a short time ago and I'd thrown it back in his face. I almost opened my mouth to take it back, until his expression changed suddenly - to rage.

"How the fuck can you even say that?" he demanded, jumping to his feet. "It's bullshit! You can say whatever the hell you want to me, but your fucking eyes can't lie to me, Walter! You'd have been on that plane, I know you would. You're just saying this now because you want to let me off the hook. Do you really think I'd walk away from you? I told you most of the fucked up shit that I've done and you said you loved me...that you weren't going anywhere. It took a while for it to sink in, but I finally got it. No one has ever cared about me, Walter, except you and I never felt like this about anyone either. You were there when I needed you and I still need you, but you need me too and I swear to God, if I leave you it'll be because I'm in the fucking morgue!"

The door flew open to admit a shocked-looking Sharon. Her eyes flew from me to Alex and back again. Alex was standing at the side of the bed, fists clenched, chest heaving, green eyes flashing.

"Alex, you need to calm down," Sharon said.

"I am calm," he answered through his teeth.

"It's alright, Sharon." I spoke at last. "Alex...listen to me. I will not do this," I told him firmly. "You're right. First...it's not safe for you to be here and second, I will not have you give everything up to have half a life with me when I won't be able to give you anything back. I..."

"Shut up, Walter!" Alex growled. "_You_ listen!"

The door opened again to admit Mulder and Scully and I groaned inwardly. I didn't want an audience while I had one of the hardest conversations I'd ever had in my life, but they were clearly there to stay and Alex wasn't letting me get a word in.

"Miracles happen, Walter, and there's at least a reasonable chance that something can be done to help you."

"Krycek, what the hell are you doing?" Mulder interrupted.

Alex gripped the left cuff of the checkered shirt in his right hand and yanked at it viciously, tearing the seam around the shoulder until the entire sleeve came away and slid down his metal arm and off, fluttering to the ground. He lifted the arm and bent the elbow, wiggling the fingers and rotating it this way and that. Mulder, Scully and Sharon's faces were a picture of shocked fascination as they all stared at Alex.

"I made a call to the clinic in Japan just now," he said. "I figured they were probably a lot further ahead than they were when I got this." He glanced at the others and grimaced slightly as if he'd only just noticed their eyes were still glued to his arm. "Spines are still at the experimental stage, but so were limbs eighteen months ago. They've done one and it's been fairly successful. The guy can't walk without assistance, but he's on his feet and he can feel. They want to see your x-rays, Walter."

"This is nonsense!" Scully exclaimed, frowning at Alex. "You can't give false hope like this, Krycek, it's not going to help Walter."

"Wait. Let him speak," Mulder said. "I've read about this clinic and now we've all seen what they can do. Alex lost an arm two years ago and look...I've learned from experience how strong that is." He pulled a face in Alex's direction and I remembered Alex gripping him by the throat outside the cabin. " It _is _still experimental, what they do, but I think it's worth a shot. Walter, if you can even get all the feeling back, wouldn't it be worth...?"

"Mulder," Scully sighed. "I don't think..."

"How much does it cost?" Mulder asked, ignoring her.

"Uh...it doesn't come cheap." Alex avoided looking at any of us and I spoke up at last. For a moment - just a brief moment - I had felt hope as I imagined an experimental operation, perhaps a manufactured section of spine and wiring to reconnect the nerves that would make me function the way Alex's arm did, but I knew the cost would prevent it. His arm had been almost a million dollars and a spine...who knew what that would cost? There was only one way any of us could come up with that kind of money and I wouldn't let him do it.

"No," I said firmly. "It's too expensive."

"I can find the money," Alex said.

"How much?"

"It's...uh...it's around one point five million."

Sharon and Scully gasped audibly and I nodded, resigned.

"You can lay your hands on that kind of money?" Mulder queried, raising an eyebrow at Alex.

"No!" I exclaimed. "He can't."

"You know I can." Alex moved toward the door.

"Alex, I won't let you do this," I said through my teeth, horrified. What the hell would he have to do for one and a half million?

"Alex..." It was Sharon who spoke and went to stand in front of Alex. She put her hand on his arm and looked up at him. "Honey, do whatever you can. Walter is a stubborn man. But if there's a chance, he'll take it."

"Sharon, you don't know what you're asking!" I cried. "What Alex will have to do...it could get him killed!"

His eyes slid to mine and held them for a moment before he turned to the door again. "It's a small price to pay." He was gone before I could say anything else.

"What did you mean? What's he going to do?" Mulder demanded at once.

"Don't ask, okay? Just don't." I lifted a hand slowly and rubbed at the growing pain in my temples. "He won't do anything. I won't let him."

"I don't think you have much choice," Sharon said. "That boy worships the ground you walk on, Walter. I know you. You told him to leave, didn't you? That you don't want to be with him any more, because you think he'd have to care for you? You're stubborn and proud, but that's what love is about. If this clinic can do something, then that's fantastic, but if it doesn't work, or he can't get the money, he'll be here for you."

"I don't want that," I groaned. "I don't want him caring for me and I don't want him dying for me either. He can't stay in DC."

"Dana, could you at least get the x-rays so we can find out if this clinic thinks it likely they can do something?" Sharon asked.

"Damn it, aren't any of you listening to me?" I demanded, weakly slamming my fist onto the mattress beside me.

"No, Walter, we're not." Sharon gave me a smile. "Let's at least find out whether it's possible."

I closed my eyes again, taking a few deep breaths. The monitor was indicating my heart was racing again and Scully went to check it, then told me to breathe more slowly and try not to get myself worked up. I tried to do as she asked, but it was impossible not to be worked up. Was there really any point in letting myself hope? Maybe the clinic could fix me, but what would it cost Alex? I could be healed and still lose him and if he died so that I could be whole again, I'd never forgive myself.

"Mulder, do you think you and Sharon could leave for a while? Go and get some coffee or something," Scully suggested then. "Walter needs to rest. All this excitement right after he...um...flatlined..."

"Yes, of course," Mulder said at once. "Sharon?"

"Alright." Sharon moved to his side. "I need to call Tom anyway and let him know what's happening."

"Why don't you just go home?" I suggested. "There's no need for you to be here."

"Yes, there is. I'll be in the cafeteria. I'm ready, Fox."

Mulder grimaced, but said nothing as he opened the door for her. I would have smiled if my emotions weren't all over the place. I had no idea what to do for the best. I couldn't stop Alex or Sharon doing what they wanted to and it was obvious they were going to go ahead with trying to arrange treatment for me in Japan. Even Mulder agreed, although I doubted he would be so keen if he knew exactly what it entailed for Alex.

When they were gone, I expected Scully to ask me questions about what Alex had said and about his arm, but she said nothing, other than to remind me that I needed to rest. I felt exhausted and my head hurt, but I doubted I could sleep. My mind was too full of hope and worries while my common sense told me not to be a fool and imagine the impossible. I told myself over and over that I needed to accept what had happened to me and think about how to convince Alex to leave the country and forget about me, but the mind is a stubborn thing and I went on hoping until somehow I did fall asleep.

I woke to find the room only dimly lit. Alex was sitting beside the bed, slumped in the chair with his eyes closed, but as I watched him, I realised that he was awake. He made slight movements with his face and his hands and his breathing was uneven.

"Alex?" I said quietly. His eyes snapped open and he straightened up immediately.

"How are you feeling?"

"Don't ask me that. What time is it?"

"Uh..." He pushed up the sleeve of the green sweater he had changed into and checked his wristwatch. "A little after three."

"In the morning?"

"Uh huh."

"How long have you been here?"

"In total? About a day and a half. Don't try telling me to leave again, Walter, because I won't," he said firmly.

"I wasn't going to." I'd given up on that idea, I realised and part of me was glad. I did need him, as much as it pained me to admit it. I was thinking about the here and now, rather than what might happen in the future if I had to resign myself to life as a cripple. "Come here." I patted the mattress beside me and in an instant Alex was on his feet. He climbed carefully onto the narrow bed and stretched out at my side, placing his hand on my chest. I moved my right arm under his neck and curled it around him, tugging him close and immediately feeling his warm breath on my neck. I brushed my lips across his cheek and rested my other hand on his arm, stroking up and down and squeezing his bicep. "It feels so good holding you," I murmured.

"You want me to stay here while you sleep?" he asked.

"I've had enough sleep. I want to know what you've been doing while I've been out of it."

"I talked to the clinic again and Dana faxed them your x-rays. We're waiting for them to call to tell her if they think it's a possibility. She didn't want to do it, but Mulder managed to persuade her. He's surprisingly determined. Guess he's fascinated by the technology."

"Is there anything else wrong with me? I mean, the spine is bad enough, but...what about my internal organs?"

"The bullet missed everything," Alex said. "Dana said it shattered a rib on the way out, but that's all."

I nodded slowly. "Are you okay lying on that side?" I asked then, realising he was resting on his metal arm.

"I'll be fine for a while."

"So...what else? Did you call...them?"

"Not yet. Not until we know if I'm gonna need the money or not."

"Alex, I wish you wouldn't do this," I said. "Believe me, if there's a chance I can get off my ass again, I want to take it, but I'm worried about you. You could end up..."

"Walter, I could get myself killed for plenty of reasons without even undertaking another job," he interrupted. "Just let me worry about that, okay? I know what I'm doing."

"But, Cancerman...does he know you're alive? Is that why I was shot?" I asked.

"He knew and yes, that was why. You didn't carry out his orders and finish me off."

"So there's a chance he'll send someone after me again - after both of us."

"No." Alex shook his head slightly against my shoulder. "He won't be a problem any more."

"What...? What did you do?" I asked anxiously.

"I just dealt with it, Walter. Don't make me spell it out, please." He pressed his face into my neck. I could feel his heart racing where his chest pressed against the side of mine and I breathed in sharply, then out again more slowly. He had killed Cancerman. I felt both slight shock and relief. The bane of both of our lives was gone and as far as I was aware, that man was the only threat within the Bureau.

"It's alright, Alex," I whispered. He relaxed against me and slid his hand up from my chest to my neck.

"When I was at LAX waiting for you and the plane you should have been on came in, I figured you changed your mind," he said then. "I couldn't blame you, but I decided to wait for the next plane, just in case you missed it. Part of me kept remembering what you said to me - how determined you were that you wouldn't leave me, no matter what. Don't make me leave you, Walter. Whatever happens...I'll deal with it. We'll deal with it together. I can't be without you."

"If it doesn't work, or it's too expensive, or whatever...I'll be stuck in a wheelchair the rest of my life," I sighed. "You can't be a nurse to me, Alex."

"You mean like you weren't for me?"

"That was a couple of weeks, not a lifetime."

"Let me ask you something." He lifted his head from my shoulder and propped himself up, looking down into my eyes. "Suppose I was lying in this bed now, paralysed, telling you to walk away and have a happy life without me. Would you?"

"Not a chance," I said without hesitation. "But..."

"No buts. I'm going nowhere, Walter. I never had this, you know that. I won't lose it, not for anything."

I slid my hand up to the back of his neck and pulled his face down to mine so that our lips met. It was a light caress, but it felt so good to kiss him. It made me want to take whatever chance there was that might give us our future.

I must have fallen asleep again shortly after this and I opened my eyes to find Alex sleeping beside me. He had moved to the other side of the bed so that he wasn't lying on his left side and his leg was hooked over one of mine. It was strange seeing it there when I couldn't feel the heat or the weight of him on me. I lay still, not wanting to disturb him, but a moment later there was a tap on the door and it opened, waking Alex. He groaned softly and raised his head to look at Mulder as he pushed the door closed again.

"I have some news," he said.

"Oh?" I squinted at him, wondering what had happened to my glasses. They were probably still in the motel.

"Our smoking friend is dead."

"Really?" I closed my eyes briefly and blew my breath out, then looked at him again, hoping I appeared believable. "Thank God," I added. Alex said nothing.

"I got a call this early this morning. Someone took him out execution style - bullet in the back of the head," Mulder went on, fixing his eyes on Alex.

"Good for them," Alex said calmly. "Any idea who?"

"There's no trace. Cancerman was in his apartment. I suppose it could have been one of his previous...operatives. They must have known where to find him." He was still staring at Alex. Alex's eyes flickered, and he licked his lips. It was obvious Mulder had guessed it was probably him. "Well..." Mulder went on. "We can all stop worrying about him now, can't we?"

Alex smiled slightly and sat up. "Is there any news from Japan yet?"

"I don't know about that, you'll have to speak to Scully. She went home to get some rest, but she'll be back in an hour or so." He let himself out of the room again and Alex looked down at me.

"Execution style?" I queried.

"I was tempted to torture him, but really I just wanted it over and done with."

"Is there anyone else?"

"No. His orders died with him. We'll be okay here for now."

"What about Russia?"

"I'll update them later, when I know whether or not I have anything to ask them."

"Alex, promise me you won't do anything...too..." I broke off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

"Walter, I'll do whatever it takes," he answered. "I don't want you to ask me about it."

"I must be crazy," I sighed. "Twenty years in the FBI and here I am approving God only knows what."

"You don't have to approve it. Just forgive me. It'll be the last time."


	17. Chapter 17 - Separation

**Part 17 - Separation**

During the next few days, I worried constantly about what Alex might have to do to get the money. He didn't talk to me about it and I didn't ask, but I knew he'd called his old 'boss' in Russia and that he was making plans. I only hoped it wasn't something that would get him killed or that he would get caught and locked up. If I lost him, it would all have been for nothing, but at the same time, if he didn't do it, I would have no chance of possibly getting off my ass again.

My wounds began to heal, the only positive part of it being that I didn't need pain relief. I felt nothing except for the occasional stress headache, but I was bored and irritable. In addition I was embarrassed, due to the catheters and bed baths and complete inability to do anything for myself except shovel food down my neck and operate the remote control on the TV. I refused point blank to have either Alex or Scully in the room while the nurses attended to me and a young, male doctor had been assigned to oversee my care. Scully had only been there in the beginning because she had insisted, but she still checked in every day to see how I was doing.

Sharon and Tom both came daily and a number of agents that I'd worked with in the Bureau visited from time to time, as did my old PA, Kimberly. I hated every minute of it and I found myself counting off the hours until something happened. Mulder hung around more often than I would like, intrigued by the idea that I could potentially receive a futuristic section of spine to get me back on my feet. He had somehow persuaded Alex to show him his arm again and tell him more about how it had been fitted and how he got used to it. I was surprised that the pair seemed to have formed an uneasy truce, but relieved at the same time.

It was a week later that things changed. It was late one evening when Sharon and Tom came to see me, summoned by Alex. A little while after, Mulder also arrived, complaining loudly that he been intending to work late and that Alex's insistence he visit me right then was interfering with his plans. Alex was oddly jittery and didn't seem able to sit still as he explained that he and Scully had arranged a private flight to Japan and that we would be leaving in twenty-four hours' time. My doctor had strenuously argued this, but Scully pointed out that I could discharge myself into her care without there being a problem. She was in the hospital helping out and checked in with us a couple of times during the evening.

"I really need to get back to work," Mulder grumbled, pacing the room, awkwardly stepping around chairs and people's feet. I was about to suggest that he just go, but Alex spoke first.

"Sit down, Mulder, you can spare Walter a couple of hours. This'll be the last time you see him for a few months unless you take a trip to Tokyo, assuming the clinic will allow visitors." Alex had positioned himself so that anyone wanting to leave the room would have to ask him to move so they could get the door open. He had fidgeted constantly for the past hour and he wouldn't meet my eyes. I knew that something was going on, but I had no idea what.

Sharon drew Mulder into conversation with her and Tom and the man relaxed for a while, but Alex remained on his feet, glancing repeatedly at his watch when he thought no one was looking his way. If the room hadn't been full of people, I would have asked him what was going on, but there was no opportunity for me to do that. Mulder had begun paying more attention to Alex as well and his expression was becoming suspicious as if he also sensed something.

Ten o'clock passed and Sharon and Tom announced their intention to go home, making Alex promise to call them from Japan and update them on my progress if I wasn't able to do it myself.

"Okay, I'm gonna take off now as well," Mulder said when the door closed behind the couple.

"Sit the fuck down, Mulder!" Alex growled, stepping in front of the door again.

"What the hell is your problem, Alex? Some of us have work to do!" snapped Mulder.

"Like I said...last chance to spend time with Walter."

I glanced at Alex, his whole body tense, fists clenched. "What's the rush to get to the Bureau, Mulder?" I asked. "I'm sure whatever it is can wait until morning. You work far too hard."

"Damn it, it feels like you're keeping me prisoner here," Mulder sighed.

"Anyone would think you don't like my company." I gave him a grin.

"Anyone would thing there's a reason you two don't want me going there." Mulder's eyes narrowed and he glanced from me to Alex and back again.

"Yeah, you work too hard," I said, hoping I sounded more relaxed than I felt. "What's this case that's demanding so much of your attention?"

Mulder sat still again and talked to me about the case. He kept checking the time the same way Alex was doing, but he didn't make another attempt to leave. It had occurred to me - and clearly Mulder as well - that Alex was trying to keep him away from the J Edgar Hoover building for a reason.

Suddenly Mulder's pager went off. He pulled it out and muttered something, then got to his feet, taking his cellphone out of another pocket. I looked at Alex, who was staring studiously at his metal hand while he repeatedly made a fist and then spread his fingers out.

"What happened?" I asked Mulder when he ended the call.

"Part of the Hoover Building has been destroyed. A bomb."

Alex stepped aside as the door opened to admit a shocked-looking Scully. "Have you heard?"

"Yeah." Mulder nodded and this time when he moved to the door, Alex didn't try to stop him. "I'll give you a ride," Mulder told Scully. He gave Alex a hard stare, but didn't say anything to him.

"Walter, I'll be back before it's time for you to leave," Scully said before walking outside.

"You're not still going, are you?" I heard Mulder say as he followed.

"Of course I'm going." Scully's voice was cut off as the door closed. I looked up at Alex and he met my eyes for the first time in hours.

"You blew up the Hoover Building?"

"Part of it."

"Alex! You know Mulder will catch onto this, he's not stupid! You were pretty obvious about not wanting him to go there."

"What else could I do? Let him get killed?" He moved to the side of the bed and slumped into the chair. "Before you ask, no one else was working there, I checked."

"The security guards..."

"Stunned and locked in the basement. It was built to withstand this kind of thing. They'll be okay."

"Cameras?" I asked.

"Disabled. I did it right this time."

"Jeez, Alex," I groaned. "Why did they want you to do this?"

"To draw a lot of attention and cause as much disruption to operations as possible. Everyone will be so tied up with this, they won't be concerned with anything else."

"Like what?" I pinched the bridge of my nose, my temples throbbing. I recognised that I ought to have been reporting something like this and instead, I was checking that Alex would be safe and that he hadn't hurt anybody.

"Don't worry about that, Walter. There are operatives in the US, that's all I'm going to tell you."

"Russian agents?"

"Yes."

"What are we going to do about Mulder?"

"Leave him to me."

My heart was thumping wildly and I felt a sheen of sweat breaking out over my upper body. What Alex had done could get him killed. It would be likely that an agent would be assigned to take him out, but if it went through official channels, he'd get the death sentence.

"Walter, fuck, you have to calm down!" Alex put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed lightly. "That monitor's going crazy. The docs will be in here any second."

"How the fuck can I calm down?" I hissed. "You could die for this!"

"We knew that was going to be an option. No one's going to pay two million for stealing information or something like that."

"Two...?"

"The extra will be useful. We had to hire a private jet and depending on how long it takes to get you back on your feet, assuming this works, rehab could be expensive."

"Alex...is this really worth it?"

"Don't you think it's worth it? Don't you want to get out of that bed and walk? Feel me touch you? Have a whole life ahead of you again?"

"Damn it, Alex, you know I do!"

"Then stop worrying about it. If this means I'm gonna have to stay out of the States, what does it matter? That was the case anyway when Cancerman was still around."

"Are we still going to Australia?" I asked.

"Yeah, to start with. I rented a place in Tasmania."

"But we'll be in Japan."

"It's not going anywhere, Walter. We'll go there when you can walk onto the plane yourself."

I rubbed my hands over my face. My heart was still banging against my ribs and I was terrified that Alex would be caught. Mulder wouldn't let something this big slip by and it was clear he already knew Alex had something to do with it.

"How soon are we leaving?" I asked.

"Tomorrow night."

The next few hours were going to seem endless. I doubted I would relax enough to sleep and I continued talking with Alex about my treatment in Japan for a while, until somehow my eyelids began to droop and I found myself slipping away after all.

When I woke, Alex was lying on the bed beside me, his head on my shoulder. He breathed deeply, but not quite evenly and I knew he was awake. My arm was under his neck and I curled it around his shoulders, turning my head to brush my lips against his cheek.

"Hey." He lifted his head and smiled.

"What time is it?"

"Uh...seven."

He didn't have time to say any more. The door swung open to admit Mulder and I immediately noticed the way his hand rested on his gun holster. My mouth went dry and my heart rate sped up.

"Mulder, what...?"

"You know why I'm here," Mulder said to Alex, ignoring me. "You're gonna have to come with me."

"Mulder..." I began again.

"Save it, Walter. You don't really think I'm going to overlook this, do you? Cancerman was the bane of everybody's life, but a bomb? Don't even try to deny it, Krycek. It has your name written all over it. Get up."

"Mulder, don't do this," I said shakily.

"What the hell happened to you, Walter?" he demanded. "You used to be a decent, law-abiding guy - an assistant director, for Christ's sake! Don't you care any more? You're so obsessed with this traitor, you'd let him get away with anything?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Alex raised a hand to stop me. "I'll go with you," he told Mulder. "But give me five minutes, please. For Walter."

"Damn you," Mulder muttered. "I can't believe this of you, Walter."

"Mulder, let me talk to Alex," I said. I felt a little sick. I was going to lose him. After everything, I was going to lose him. I would be facing the clinic in Japan on my own - an unknown, experimental surgery that might not even work and if it did, months of recuperation. My heart slammed against my ribs and I rubbed a hand over my face worriedly. "Five minutes," I added, sounding almost pleading.

"I'll be right outside the door. You'd better not try anything, Krycek." Scowling, Mulder stepped outside and the door closed behind him.

"Fuck," I muttered. "Alex, why did you have to do something so...?"

"Don't, Walter, there isn't time," he interrupted, rising quickly. He grabbed his jacket from a chair and pulled a thick envelope out of the inside pocket. "Just listen to me. This is another passport. Mulder and Scully know about the Troy Robinson one now, so you can't use it. The surgery is already paid for. Travel to Japan as yourself and when you're done with the rehab, use this one to get to Sydney. Don't let Scully find out about it. There's a credit card in here too in the same name, linked to an account with the rest of the money. Find someplace to stay and get into a kind of routine. I _will_ come to you, somehow."

"Fuck," I said again. "Why did you do this? Blowing up the fucking Hoover building? You must have known you'd get caught."

"Yeah, I knew, but you have to get back on your feet, Walter, and this was the only thing I could do to get the money."

"You promised me no more secrets!" I snapped. "This was a hell of a fucking big secret, Alex! That you can't even be with me now - the only time I need you." My voice dropped and my anger slipped away as rapidly as it had appeared.

"Walter...you are the strongest, most determined man I know," Alex said. He sat on the edge of the bed and gripped my hands. "You can do this, with or without me. If there was any way I could be with you at the clinic, I would, but if I hadn't done this, you..."

"...wouldn't be going, I know," I finished with a sigh.

"We _will_ have our future, I swear to you. I've never had this, you know that. And I'm not giving it up, no matter what happens."

"You could get killed," I said again.

"I won't."

"Alex...fuck...come here." I pulled my hands free of his and slid my arms around him. He leaned down and pressed his lips hard onto mine, his hands clutching my shoulders. He was trembling and I held him tighter for a long moment, feeling his heart pounding in time with mine. Panic filled me and I held on tighter until the door opened again and Mulder stepped in.

"Time's up," he said.

"I love you, Walter," Alex whispered.

"I love you too, Alex. I'll make it," I said determinedly. "I'll walk out of that fucking clinic."

"Yeah, you will." He sat up again slowly, his back to Mulder, and carefully slid the envelope containing the passport and credit card under my bed covers so that Mulder wouldn't see it. His eyes met mine for a long moment, his bright green orbs shining with unshed tears. Then he was on his feet and I watched numbly as he let Mulder cuff him and take him away.

I knew I should have expected this, but I had been too concerned with the prospect of the surgery and afterward, a new life with Alex, to really dwell on the fact that what he'd done would take him away from me. I lay there, shocked and tearful for an interminable amount of time until a nurse came in to check on me and bring me breakfast. I drank the coffee, but I couldn't face the food. I was relieved when the nurse returned to change my catheter bag and give me a bed bath, giving me something else to think about for a short time. It was over all too quickly and I was left to my own devices again.

I was scared for Alex. I wouldn't put it past Mulder to do something to him rather than simply turn him in. Although they seemed to have got along at least tentatively over the past week, Mulder had always hated Alex. He had resented having to work with the young agent and when he discovered that Alex had been a spy all along, he had taken every opportunity presented to him to kick the shit out of him.

I knew Alex was unarmed - or at least I thought he was. Mulder wasn't and perhaps it would be all too easy for him to take Alex somewhere and put a bullet in his head. On the other hand, he might turn him in and gleefully report everything Alex had done, doing everything he could to ensure that Alex faced the death penalty. Lethal injection had recently become the method used and I could imagine Mulder delighting in Alex being the first to succumb to it.

I lay alone, worrying, unable to do anything or talk to anyone, until finally Scully arrived in the early afternoon. She looked serious and sad as she closed the door and I shut my eyes to block her out.

"What happened?" I gritted out.

"Alex is in a cell for the moment. He's denying everything, but we all know he did it. Why would he do this, Walter?"

"Simple." I opened my eyes again. "To pay for my surgery. What's going to happen to him?"

"Well, they have to prove he did it. There's no actual evidence..."

"I know that, he's not a fool!" I barked. "But Mulder..."

"Mulder can't do anything officially if it can't be proven. That doesn't mean to say that he won't try something...unofficially."

"Fuck!" I muttered. "Sorry, Dana."

"I rather feel like saying that myself, Walter." She sat down in the chair beside the bed with a heavy sigh. "How did you ever get yourself into this?"

"I saved his life and along the way, I fell for him. Now he's doing the same thing for me."

"Maybe...I can do something to help," Scully said doubtfully.

"No. There's nothing you can do without compromising yourself," I said firmly.

"What will you do if...if Alex can get out of this?"

"We'll find each other. Somewhere away from here."

"You'd still go to Australia?"

"No." I shook my head. "I can't be Troy Robinson now that you and Mulder know about it. Whatever I decide, I won't tell you, Dana."

She nodded. "Well, I have some things I have to do before tonight. If you need me, you can call my cell."

"Okay."

I spent most of the remainder of the day alone. Sharon came in for an hour to say a last goodbye and was surprised that Alex wasn't with me. I told her he'd gone to pack a bag and tie up a few loose ends and then spent the rest of the time with a forced smile on my face, hoping she wouldn't see through me. I was relieved when a nurse brought my dinner, prompting Sharon to leave me in peace.

I forced some of the meal down, but my mouth was dry and my stomach churned with both anxiety over the surgery and fear for Alex. What Scully had said didn't make me feel any better. It might not be possible to officially pin anything on Alex, but Mulder could easily take him before the Syndicate and have them deal with him. Cancerman may be gone, but the others would no doubt treat him just as harshly. He could be executed, or locked up in some awful place, or tortured...

I continued to torture myself, wondering how in the hell I was going to go to Japan, get through everything there and recuperate while I was constantly worrying for Alex's safety.

Scully returned a little later, along with a nurse and a porter. An ambulance waited outside to take me to the airport and I carefully tucked the envelope Alex had given me, into the pajamas I was wearing so that it would remain hidden when I was moved to a trolley. Scully retrieved the bags containing my belongings from a cupboard and brought them with us. After I'd been shot, Sharon had collected them from the motel, but I'd completely forgotten about them with everything else that had been going on.

My transfer to the ambulance, and thirty minutes later, to the plane, went smoothly. I found myself strapped in place on the private jet much more quickly than I expected. Scully had hired an agency nurse to travel with us to ensure that I had adequate care on the journey and I was relieved when I was given mild sedation. My heart rate was erratic and Scully clearly took pity on me and tried to ensure I would sleep. Somehow I did sleep. I was barely aware of anything after take-off and the next time I became lucid, I was in another ambulance.

"Dana?" I croaked. My throat was dry and sore and she uncapped a water bottle, lifting my head so that I could sip some.

"We're in Tokyo," she said. "The clinic's about forty minutes away."

"What time is it?"

"Around three."

"Morning or afternoon?" I frowned, trying to work out the time difference and take into account the fourteen hours flying.

"Morning."

"Have you heard anything from Mulder?"

"I called when we landed."

_"And?"_ I prompted urgently.

"The group the Smoking Man worked with has taken Alex."

I groaned aloud. He would have had more of a chance if he'd simply been arrested and interviewed, then gone to trial. The Syndicate would probably get rid of him whether they believed he had anything to do with the bomb or not, based on his previous actions.

I was completely unable to relax for the remainder of the journey to the clinic and by the time I had been taken to my room and settled into the bed there, Sully was forced to give me more sedation. My heart raced and I panted for breath until the drug kicked in and I could see that Scully was worrying for me. A Japanese doctor came in to meet me and check my condition and held a short conversation with Scully. She explained that she would be staying until I recovered from the surgery.

The medication put me to sleep again, despite my attempts to fight it. I didn't want to sleep anymore, but while I was out, at least I wasn't worrying. The next time I came to, it was the middle of the day and a nurse was delivering lunch to Scully. It was only then that I realised I was hungry. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten and my stomach rumbled at the sight of the food.

"Sorry," Scully said sympathetically. "You're nil by mouth."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours. You'll be going into surgery at six."

I glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed it to be just past four. Nerves kicked in and at the same time, renewed fear for Alex. "Have you heard anything?" I asked, knowing I didn't need to specify. She knew what I meant.

"No, I'm sorry. I talked to Mulder an hour ago. He doesn't know where Alex has been taken."

"I shouldn't be here," I groaned. "I need to be there. I need to know what's going on."

"Walter, there's nothing you can do. You know there isn't."

"You mean because I can't walk."

"No, I mean because we don't know where he is and if we did, you'd only bring trouble on yourself if you tried to do anything about it."

"I don't care about me!" I exclaimed. "I need to know he's not being hurt!"

"I'll call again later," Scully said with a sigh. "You have to try to stay calm. I know that's difficult, but..."

"Damn right," I muttered. I couldn't imagine how I was going to concentrate on getting through the endless weeks of rehab if I had no news of him - assuming the surgery was successful, and there was no guarantee it would be.

Scully ate and then left the room briefly. I took the opportunity to transfer the envelope containing the passport and credit card into a drawer in the bedside table. I didn't even know if it would be safe there, but I had no choice. I would be changed out of my pajamas and into a surgical gown soon enough and it would be found anyway.

An hour later I was given pre-op meds and thirty minutes after that, when I found myself dozing again, I was transferred to a trolley and wheeled out of the room. I'd been so busy worrying about Alex, that fear for myself hadn't had the chance to kick in and now that I was doped up, I found it impossible to be concerned. It would work or it wouldn't - that was that.

The next time I opened my eyes, it was daylight. I had a tube in my nose and a needle in my arm attached to a drip. I was lying on my side, propped up by firm bolsters either side of me and I could see my glasses resting on the top of the bedside cabinet beside a jug of water. Scully was sitting in the chair beside the bed, reading a US newspaper. She looked up at that moment and met my eyes.

"Walter!"

I tried to speak, but my mouth was too dry. Scully cast the paper aside and got up quickly. I watched as she poured a glass of water and put a straw in it so that I could drink while lying on my side. I took a few mouthfuls and then she put the glass down.

"Alex," was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

"He called yesterday."

"What? He called? What day is it? How long have I been out?" I babbled.

"You've been asleep for three days. He called to check how the surgery went."

"From where? Can I call him?" I demanded.

"No, he gets two calls a week, he said. You will hear from him, Walter."

"Where is he? Is he okay?"

"He's locked up, I'm not sure where. He didn't have long and couldn't say much, but he said he's okay."

I heaved a sigh of relief. That might not necessarily be true and he could have been hurt, but at least he was alive and I would be able to talk to him in a couple more days. "How did it go?" I asked then. "The surgery."

"Very well. The surgeon was very pleased."

"So can I move?"

"We don't know yet. Don't try, Walter. You have to heal first. You're being given pain meds to prevent any sudden pain making you jerk around."

"How long?"

"At least a week, maybe more."

"Damn it," I muttered.

"Walter, even regular spinal surgery requires a long period of recovery," Scully said patiently. "This is completely new, only performed once. You have to do what they say."

"I know that, I just need to know if I'm ever going to get out of this bed. How long are you staying?" I remembered she had said she was staying until after the surgery.

"A couple more days. I need to get back to work, but Sharon's flying out tomorrow to spend a week with you. The staff here are all amazing too, you'll be fine."

"Okay." My stomach growled and I grinned, despite the severity of my situation. "Can I have food now?"

"Of course. What would you like?"

"I can choose?" I said in surprise.

"It's a private clinic, Walter, not a hospital. You can have whatever you like. Their kitchen staff will prepare it for you."

"Maybe something easy to eat lying down," I said wryly. "Salmon sandwiches?"

"I'll arrange it." Scully left the room quickly and I took the opportunity to open the drawer in the table to check my envelope was still there. It was exactly as I had left it and I closed the drawer again, relieved. Now all I could do was wait - wait until they took me off the pain meds to see if I had any feeling, and wait for Alex to call.


End file.
